


Holden Dreer - RDR2 RP Summary

by TurboTavia



Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Dysfunctional Family, Dysfunctional Relationships, Emotional Baggage, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Manipulation, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Gang Violence, Inspired by Red Dead Redemption, Minor Violence, Non-Graphic Violence, Other, Past Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Physical Abuse, Red Dead Redemption 2 Spoilers, Roleplay, Trust Issues, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-25
Updated: 2019-07-28
Packaged: 2020-03-17 11:52:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 10
Words: 20,685
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18964690
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TurboTavia/pseuds/TurboTavia
Summary: A collection of most major roleplays I conduct using Holden with various people on a Discord roleplay server. Most text is unedited for legitimacy, so please excuse any spelling errors I or anyone else made. This server bases around 1899, after the events of Red Dead Redemption 2, and does not involve any canon characters.Each character belongs to its creator and I am not the owner of any but Holden Dreer.Any text written by another person (unless discussed beforehand) is unplanned and I have no influence over their choices.Texts are written spontaneously, meaning at times the grammar or pacing is sloppy and are greatly influenced by other people's texts, making it difficult at times to plan out what will be written.For any questions, simply post below in the comments!Thanks for reading. ♥





	1. Day 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A reminder that this is all spontaneously written! Please excuse any mistakes or bad pacing.
> 
> Again, this roleplay takes place in 1899. For those who have read some of my current story Hellfire, you would know that that takes place in 1895, four years prior to this. Hellfire is focued on Holden's outlaw lifestyle after losing Hanschen. You may notice some things being mentioned in this RP that have not come up before now - yes, these can be considered spoilers! Since 1895, a lot has happened. But most importantly, that lifestyle is behind Holden and he is not too keen to get it started up again any time soon. But who knows what'll happen? For now he is a skilled hunter, much like before the events of Hellfire when he used to hunt with Hanschen, trying to live a semi-honest lifestyle. But shit happens. Holden has matured over the years, and is much more considerate than in Hellfire or before. He takes the time to consider what the best options are.

Many thanks to [Nana](https://twitter.com/nanadzl_) for these beautiful pieces of Holden!

The piece on the left shows Holden in 1899. This is how I plan on having Holden look after some time in the role-play server. He is mature, considerate and has Billy as his partner and student to guide through the right way of life.

The one on the right is Holden from 1894 to 1899. Until late 1898 he lives a high life of crime as hopefully depicted in my other fic Hellfire, shooting people over the smallest of things, before it all comes tumbling down (no spoilers!). In 1899 he still wears this comfy clothing to hunt and fend for himself as a normal person would, having matured a lot by what happens in 1898.

I am eternally grateful for Nana's incredible ability to capture exactly what I ask for, and I highly recommend you check out their page and offer them some love!

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 Day 1  

Holden

He’s never had the chance to run solo before and the isolation seems to be taking its toll on him. He hasn’t spoken a word in several days now and his tongue feels hard and dry, much like the dirt beneath his fingernails and burning sores into the lids of his eyes. There’s just no being rid of this uncomfortable feeling.

He wipes his hands down his trousers which are equally covered in dust.

Holden rests his cigarette on his lip, watching passers-by from under the brim of his hat, not making eye contact with anyone from where he leans against the general store wall. The shopkeeper has since given up asking him to move, so he feels no rush.

It’s been a shit day so far.

 .・。.・゜✯

Holden sighs and flicks his cigarette into the dirt over the railing. No matter what he does to distract himself, he can't get his past out of his head. All it does is draw him back to where it all started, and where he lost everything.

He shouldn't have left the ledger back at the old camp.

Maybe it wouldn't hurt heading back up that way, though. Things have certainly bettered. It's been four years after all, and the world is vastly changing right under his feet. For all he knows, Valentine might not even exist anymore.

A moment passes where Holden stares at the hard dirt on the road, willing it to crumble.

"Fuck it," he hisses, straightening his hat and tugging on his belt. He's just going to have to suck it up. Quickdraw, his trusty steed perks his ears as Holden comes nearer, before he swings himself onto his back. Knowing the timetable, there should be a train leaving in ten minutes to Blackwater.

 

Billy

Billy would sit on the train, in the poorer section with the wooden benches. He pulled out a smaller crumpled paper and started to read it chuckling at the action filled titles. He would turn his head looking at the empty seat beside him. He looked around the train carriage, it seemed relatively busy. Hee gave a slight shruy and continued to read.

 

Holden

After a generous number of hours travelling, his behind is sore and his mood is at an all-time low. He hasn't been on the road this much in years, and the chugging of trains is driving him crazy. Just one more and he will be in Valentine though.

He taps his foot as he waits for the train to start moving. The train may be full, but no one seems shady enough to warrent a hand on his holster, thank goodness. He hasn't brought himself to sit down just yet, but he knows his feet won't last long, as exhausted as he is.

Holden tips his hat over his eyes, hiding a yawn. It's no good. He'll need to find a seat.

He begins a slow trail through the carriage, eyes darting back and forth until they rest on a single empty seat beside a fellow reading some crumpled paper.

Good enough. He shrugs and sits down.

 

Billy

Billy would continue to read his paper, ignoring those around him. He wandered if his horse was okay in the back carriage, suddenly a man sat next to him. He turned to stare at him, Billy quickly took in the man analysing him in his head. He gave a slight chuckle and said. "The name's Bill."

 

Holden

Holden jumps a little, not having expected his neighbor to converse so quickly. After a glance at the man he deems him genuine enough and offers a slight smile and doff of his hat.

"Hh~..." his voice trails off into a cough. Damn. He hacks a dry, throaty cough, sucking as much saliva as he can into his mouth. "Sorry about that." Ahem. "Been a dry few days. Holden."

He offers a hand to the man.

 

Billy

Billy would smile, and shake the man's hand. His skin was dry, rough and his hairs were prickly. "Yeah man, I understand. Happens to the best of us."

Billy would rummage into his satchel, and would pull out another bottle of Gin. He would twist the cap off and put the bottle to his mouth before taking a large slug, and wiping his mouth with his sleeve. He smiled at Holden, "You want some?"

 

Holden

Holden flexes his fingers, taking in the dryness of his hands. The noise they make seems to be isolated over the idle background chatter of the carriage as he looks down at it. He wipes it off on his trousers, leaving behind a faint line of dust as he does.

At Billy's offer, he raises his head and offers him a smile again. "I appreciate it, friend, but I swore off the stuff. Least that way there's more for yourself."

He at the same time wishes his canteen wasn't so painfully dry. Luckily the journey isn't a long one.

 

Billy

"You gave up drink..?" Billy gave a loud burly laugh, " Damn that is certainly a life friend. No bloody alcohol. "

"So where ya goin', Valentine?" He looked over at the man.

 

Holden

Holden shuffles a little in his seat and gives a dry chuckle. "Yeah, uh, it's a long story. Can't say my life has been much bettered, but I'd rather not go back to the way it was. Valentine? Yeah, that's the place."

He pauses a moment. "Do you drink much?"

 

Billy

"Drink, yeah I like a good drink man. Keeps the boood pumping, and the eyes glowing." He'd give a short laugh.

He would pull out a small comb, and push back his messy hair, it would barely do a thing however gave the man some sort of confidence he was keeping up with his hygiene. He put the comb back in his inside pocket and folded the paper up, placing it back in his pocket. He looked out the window and saw Valentine Station.

"We're about to arrive, at Valentine. You got anything you need to do or do you wanna get a dri-." He'd pinch himself "Of course not, you don't drink. A ride perhaps? Valentine has nice country surrounding it. "

 

Holden

Their fellow train-travellers are beginning to stand up and collect their belongings from the overhead storage, drawing a halt to surrounding conversations and instead filling the air with the sound of shuffling and scraping. Holden clears his throat again, grateful at how it's muffled.

"I've actually been in these parts before. I was planning on heading out to Cumberland if you'd like to accompany me. Got some short business I need to attend to there. Then we can head back to town and you can get back to whatever it is you're doing there," he checks his satchel and gets to his feet. "What did you say you was doing there anyhow?"

 

Billy

"Ah, yeah. Got to collect something. Won't take long, and I'd love to accompany you to the Cumberlands. Perhaps we can shoot a couple a rabbit or dear."

He got to his feet and picked took his Lancaster slinging it over his shoulder.

 

Holden

He briefly catches his eye on the shine of Billy's repeater but chooses not to say anything. If it all goes to shit, he always has his knife on him.

The air is fresh and cool, cooler than Armadillo at the least, wafting through the open doors as people begin to descend onto the platform. Holden follows on behind, eager to catch a glimpse of the town he so many years ago left behind. His boot touches down on the platform and he's immediately filled with a warm sense of belonging that hasn't come from many places he's camped at recently.

_{"We can catch and cook some fish down the river if you want, Hanschen. I can show you a trick I know on how to catch some real big biters."}_

He lingers a moment, not fully on the platform, the memories hitting him harder than that bandit last week. A moment passes and he drops down fully, turning to offer a smile to Billy.

 

Billy

Billy would not be far behind. He has also missed Valentine. "Last time I came here, I was being chased after stealin' a Shire horse. The big brute knocked me off em'. I fell off and right into the Sheriff's hands."

As they got off the train, it would become apparent that Billy was actually only a teenager. The manboy aged 19 had sharp features however was indeed a spotted teenager. On his side were two basic Colts holestered. "So what's your job?"

 

Holden

It's a cool day and the sky is clear, offering at least a day's worth of sunny weather. Holden hadn't been too eager on the drastic weather difference consideration he's been held up in a desert for god knows how long. He breathes smoothly, letting the damp air from the morning's dew fill his lungs and hydrate his airways. He could hold off on that drink for a while at least.

Holden checks Billy from the side, now in broad daylight being able to take in the man's youthfulness and giddyness. It doesn't deter him though. Billy seems eager, and scared of little.

"Sounds like you've had a run-in with this town. Sure you want to be turning up here any time soon?" he chuckles, straightening the strap of his satchel. He sucks air through his teeth, watching as the stewards unload baggage and horses from the back cars, waiting for his own mount.

"I don't work for the government, if that's what you mean. In recent time I've been selling wares I find or catch, depending on the day. Now, I'm not so sure."

 

Billy

"Heh, good. I don't want to be hangin' with no Pinkertons if ya know what I'm sayin'."

"But, I could do honest work too you know, I used to shoot up Rabbits and sell em, didn't earn much so I started stealing ocer hunter's rabbits. " he'd chuckle.

 

Holden

Holden chuckles, shaking his head. "You remind me of myself when I was about your age. You don't seem much older than twenty or so. Am I right?"

He maintains the conversation as he steps down from the platform to retrieve his horse from a steward, signing a form as he does so.

 

Billy

He nods. "Only 19, friend."

He would also walk up to the steward and signed the form, petting Manu, (Morgan breed)

"You know how I got this bad boy?"

 

Holden

"Thought so," he says, reaching for his Dutch Warmblood's reins and giving him a pat, then turning to shake his head at Billy. "Though I can assume you rustled him, going by your story just now."

 

Billy

"Yeeah man, it was crazy. So I was like just minding my own business then this guy comes over and just knocks into me. Soo I hit him in the back of the head, boy drops cold. So I have to quickly escape by taking this bad boy."

"Wild that was, and I was only 15."

 

Holden

Holden laughs and swings himself up into the saddle, a hand on his mount's neck to settle him as he jogs under him and jangles his bit. Billy is a lot like himself when he was younger. It's a breath of fresh air listening to his carefree way of storytelling.

_{"No, it was crazy! This guy swings at me for no reason and I had no chance to react and hit him right between the eyes or else I would have died! You laugh now, Hanschen, but wait until the sheriff backs up my story."}_

"So you've had him quite a while then? Must have a decent bond with him by now." He sits in the saddle with an obvious trained balance and straight posture, only leant forward a little to rest his hand, as he waits for Billy to join him.

 

Billy

"Yeah, but I have to use the train a lot. Cuz you know running from the Sheriff is easier by train." He'd chuckle, swinging himself up onto Manu.

He'd play with Manu's mane, before giving him a slight kick making him trot. "So we goin' down to Cumberlands?"

 

Holden

He clucks his mount into a trot and joins Billy and Manu's side at a comfortable pace.

"Yeah, just a little into the forest. When we get close I can lead the way."

 

Billy

"Mhm," Billy is actually happy for once, he had finally found a companion. He would continue to trot. In the distance he saw a carriage, a privately owned one. He kicked Manu in the side and the horse bolted forward towards the carriage, Billy pulled up his bandana and pulled out his Colt, swerving to a stop and pointing his gun at the driver. " Hey! Stop the carriage. "

Billy looked back at Holden, and then turned back to the driver. His hand was shaking slightly.

 

Holden

Holden freezes as Billy surges forwards, barely in town and already falling back down the rabbit hole. "What the hell are you doin', kid?"

 

Billy

Billy looks back at Holden and gives a shrug. His gun still pointed at the driver. "Spending money for later?"

 

Holden

"Look, kid, I'm not sure what kind of life you've been living up until now, but this isn't the way to go about it. This poor man has hardly got enough money for himself as it is. How about you leave him be and we get some money from where it's worth getting from," his voice is low and even despite obvious urgency, a hand raised in front of him as though to carefully take Billy's gun.

 

Billy

Billy shoots at the ground, "Shoo you fucker," ( to the driver) He turns back around to Holden and pulls down his bandana.

"That was a private carriage, there coulda been a shit ton of loot in there."

 

Holden

"I know, and I'm sorry, but that isn't the way to do things. We've got to plan these things out if we have any hope of making some real money without the sheriff being on our asses." Holden breathes through his teeth and smoothes out his ponytail, his mount shuffling undernearth him.

"Come on, let's get out of here before he calls the law on us. We can disappear in the trees for a while."

He clucks his horse and trots on.

 

Billy

Billy would follow behind, holestering his Colt. He gave a sigh, "Bang bang, easy money but okay."

 

Holden

"You shouldn't become too familiar with the jangle of keys or strain of a rope either, kid. Trust me on this."

The two trot down the road and eventually the scenery folds into the rolling cluster of trees, casting shadows over the two and disguising the uneven ground.

 

Billy

"Yes, wise one." He'd joke. He continued to trot, "I'm sure you robbed randoms when you were younger."

 

Holden

"Yeah, I did. And I learned from it real quick when I watched a man swing in my place, knowing his blood was on my hands."

A moment passes, the silence of the two leaving space for the sound of rustling leaves and the soft breeze whistling through the gaps between. Holden looks ahead at the road.

 

Billy

Billy would give a slight shudder and continue to ride, now in silence.

"Well, I didn't know the situation." He would finally say.

 

Holden

"Yeah, sometimes it's better to know. Look, just try to keep to yourself for a few days at least, okay? No need to land in the sheriff's office the first day you arrive." They veer off a trail to the right.

 

Billy

"So what are we doin', fishing?"

 

Holden

"What, right now? Right now I gotta stop here for a second. Be right back," he says, dropping from the saddle. He gives Billy a slight smile and strides ahead into the trees, leaving them behind for a moment.

Holden walks into a small clearing, overgrown and lush with plantlife. The undergrowth rustles with small wildlife that scatter as he flattens a path nearer to the centre before hitting his boot against something hard. He brushes away the flora, revealing part of a broken wheel.

Standing up straight again, he casts a glance over the clearing. The faint light casting through the trees gives it an eery aura and Holden shivers.To many, it's just a field. To him, it's so much more. He notes and identifies every small detail; the plank of wood that tripped him up as it came loose that one night, the strip of fabric quite obviously being from Hanschen's tent.

_{"Don't give me that look, Hanschen. It'll be perfect here, you'll see. We're not far from the river either. And we're close enough to town that you can abandon me anytime you want," he laughs.}_

Holden draws his eyebrows together and strides forwards, eager to just get the ledger and get out. He makes his way to a tree on the edge of the clearing and stands on his toes to reach into it and retrieve a small, torn book he's surprised is even still there. Without as much as a second glance, he buries it in his satchel, which he straightens, then makes his way back to Billy and the horses.

 

Billy

Billy sits on Manu, and awaits Holden‘s return.

 

Holden

He emerges from the treeline over-exaggeratedly as to make Billy aware of his return, recalling the incident earlier and not wanting him to draw his gun. Holden tips his hat then swings up onto his horse.

"All good?"

 

Billy

Billy looks over, bored. "Aye. Not much going on."

 

Holden

The two decide to head further into the trees to set up camp for the night with it being too late (and too soon) to head back to Valentine.


	2. Day 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A reminder that this is all spontaneously written! Please excuse any mistakes or bad pacing.
> 
> Again, this roleplay takes place in 1899. For those who have read some of my current story Hellfire, you would know that that takes place in 1895, four years prior to this. Hellfire is focued on Holden's outlaw lifestyle after losing Hanschen. You may notice some things being mentioned in this RP that have not come up before now - yes, these can be considered spoilers! Since 1895, a lot has happened. But most importantly, that lifestyle is behind Holden and he is not too keen to get it started up again any time soon. But who knows what'll happen? For now he is a skilled hunter, much like before the events of Hellfire when he used to hunt with Hanschen, trying to live a semi-honest lifestyle. But shit happens. Holden has matured over the years, and is much more considerate than in Hellfire or before. He takes the time to consider what the best options are.

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Day 2 

Holden

Through the steady rustle of the leaves and soft nuzzling of the horses nearby, Holden snores are audible. His face, which is poking from under his tent, is bathed in early morning sun just peeking through the leaves, but it doesn't appear to bother him as he maintains a passed-out state. His chest rises and falls slowly, the expression on his face content.

"Oliver, you bastard!" Holden yells through a choked sob, sitting bolt upright on his bedroll, body and clothes damp from sweat.

He sits for a while, trying to catch his breath as fear and adrenaline pulses through his veins, chest heaving. A glance across the campfire confirms Billy wasn't woken up, thank god. At least it gives him the peace he needs to swallow a lump in his throat and wipe his forehead with the back of his hand. The last thing he needs is to scare Billy off with his fucked up past.

Holden slips on his boots and stumbles to his feet then out of camp, needing a piss.

The air is damp and thick with the gurgle of the nearby stream and twittering of birds overhead as he leans against a tree pissing.

After a moment he finishes up, but doesn't feel ready to head back to camp yet, so he wanders out into the trees a short distance, just taking in his surroundings. It's grown a lot in the past five years, which is a relief. He'd expected it to be all civilized by now.

 

Grant

Grant spots Holden, waving a little “Howdy there”

 

Holden

Holden pauses his trek through the undergrowth and makes eye contact with Grant, resting a hand over his holster. "Hey partner."

 

Grant

He adjusts his mask and checks his Winchester “You’d best not be drawin yer gun.”

 

Holden

"You better drop that mask and I may consider it, friend. I don't know you."

 

Grant

“That’s the point of a mask feller.”

 

Holden

"Then I can't trust you. You'd best be on your way. I don't want any trouble." Holden's eyes are hard, his brow drawn.

 

Grant

“I’m the one with the gun out here friend. You still gotta draw.”

 

Holden

"Is that what you enjoy doing? Threatening innocent people as they try to take a piss?"

 

Grant

“Nah I just really like money. Hand over all you got buddy” He raises his Winchester and trains it on Holden “Or you‘re gonna get shot.”

 

Holden

"Hate to break it to you, partner, but I haven't had any money in years," he confesses, raising his hands. "Search me if you will. Nothing I own posesses value."

 

Grant

“Hm.” He shrugs .“Guess you‘re safe unless you draw that gun.”

 

Holden

"I don't plan on it, partner. Just don't do anything stupid," he replies, his voice calm but threatening. "Am I free to go now?"

 

Grant

Grant shrugs. “Sure.“

 

Holden

Holden sways a moment, still damp from sweat and considering his next step. He sighs and shakes his head at the crazy man.

"All right, thanks friend."

He takes a few steps backwards into the brush to make sure Grant doesn't do anything, then when he's sure he's far enough away, he turns and walks away.

Holden breaks through the undergrowth and descends the bank down to the river. The weather has warmed up significantly, thank goodness, making the sparkling sheen of water appear even more inviting.

He removes his boots and lowers himself into the shallows in the meander of the river, stripping his sweat-soaked clothing to scrub it clean.

The linen turns transparent in his fingers and he sits for a moment, watching his fingers slide underneath it.

_{"You can't keep on getting into fights like this, Hanschen. Pretty soon all of your clothes are just gonna be stained red. Maybe we should start buying you black shirts."}_

He draws his eyebrows together a sighs, lowering his hands and just looking out across the water.

After some time, his feet are numb and turning blue, shaking him out of his thoughts and forcing him to drag himself from the shallows. He collects his belongings and heads back into the trees to head back into camp.

 .・。.・゜✯

 _Zoop_.

In only a split second, there's an arrow in place of the squirrel's eye and it drops to the dirt. Holden emerges from the undergrowth, bow in hand and examines his kill. It's a decent size and will definitely be enough for a meal or two.

The sun has risen high and has been slowly but surely burning a line across his neck through the canopy as he stalks through the forest, and there's a gentle breeze making for easy kills. His belt is strung with three squirrels and two rabbits.

Normally he would have hunted from horseback, going for larger game just a little south in the clearing of the Heartlands, but he hadn't felt too sure with leaving Billy alone so he hadn't strayed far, opting for smaller kills. It's not like there's a lack of food in these trees.

Holden retrieves his arrow and wipes it clean on a rag before sliding it into the quiver, then joins the squirrel with the others before heading back to the camp. It doesn't take too long, considering how close he is, and he checks over Billy's tent to make reassure himself of the man's slumber. A faint snore confirms this and he smiles, grateful that Billy hasn't taken off.

He crouches by the firepit and sets himself the task of relighting it. As the embers start to glow, he takes some of the pile of wood next to it and sets them ontop, then rests back on his heels to begin preparing his kills for cooking.

 .・。.・゜✯

Holden is spit-roasting the squirrels now, wearing only his union suit and boots.

 

Billy

Billy would roll onto his side, he was still snoring and in a deep sleep. In his hand he clutched his Colt tightly.

 

Holden

"Ah shit!" he grunts, shaking his hand as a fleck of fat spits off the flesh and burns his skin. He draws his hand to his mouth and sucks on it as he turns the spit with the other hand.

 

Billy

Billy wakes with a jolt, gunshots rattle his skull. He turns over to see Holden and gives a small smile before stretching his arms out and sitting upright. He calls over "Whatcha cookin?" as he goes to stand up.

 

Holden

Holden looks back at Billy, his hand still in his mouth for a moment before he removes it. "Mornin'," he responds, "Some squirrel. Want a piece?" gesturing to the cloth spread beside him with various pieces of meat cooling off.

 

Billy

Billy jumps up, and gives a slight jog over. "Most certainly. Done anything else this morning?"

Billy would grab a piece of squirrel and shove it in his mouth, gulping it down. Before helping himself to another.

 

Holden

He smiles, turning his attention to the spit as he slips the chunks of meat off it and onto the cloth. It's been a while since someone appreciated his cooking.

"Yeah, actually. I met a weird fellow a short ways from here earlier who pulled a gun on me."

 

Billy

"Motherfucker," Billy whips out his gun and opens his barrel sliding in some cartrigdes from his pocket. "He still round ere'? I'll pop him two."

He slaps the barrel back into place and spins it, before shoving it back in his holster.

 

Holden

Billy's antics causes him to chuckle. "It was a while ago now, kid, he's long gone. I warned him that I had a bloodthirsty, crazy teenager back at camp and didn't want to set him loose on the poor fellow."

 

Billy

He'd chuckle, laying down on the grass. "You know, you're funny. Kinda like a dad I never had. You saved a man from me yesterday, even if he did what I wanted I would have still killed em."

"No witnesses but you, stood up to me. Never happened before if I do say so myself."

 

Holden

Holden wedges a stick in the fire, unsettling the embers. "I appreciate it, kid. I can't really have you doing something you'll end up regretting. I'm surprised you didn't book it in the night, to be honest."

 

Billy

"Eh, what can I say." He gave a shrug. "So can we go hunting today, like real hunting?"

He pulled a Varmint Rifle over his shoulder and admired it. "Yeah, so basically I stole this a while ago. Apparently it is a great hunting rifle and doesn't ruin the fur."

 

Holden

A brief chuckle. "Sure we can. But if we're gonna be camping together, you should cut down on the stealin' a little."

Holden clambers to his feet and makes his way over to his tent, fumbling in his bags to retrieve some clothes, settling on riding pants and a shirt and suspenders before tugging on his leather jacket.

 

Billy

"You don't like it when I steal?" He asks. "everyone steals round 'ere. "

 

Holden

"Not anymore. Things've changed. If you're gonna steal, you gotta be smart about it. And, no offence, but you're not smart," he laughs.

 

Billy

"Eh, true. True." Billy had no spare clothes, so just walked up to his horse and saddled himself. "You ready?"

 

Holden

Holden looks over at Billy. "Don't you have anything else to wear? Not to be rude, but you smell like shit."

 

Billy

"Nope, man I fend for myself. And when I rob a guy, I don't strip him naked. I take the important stuffs, guns, ammo, cash. And then I run."

 

Holden

He pauses a moment then pinches the bridge of his nose and sighs. "You're gonna wash them clothes when we get back, okay? For now, here." Reaching into his bags, he pulls out a loose black shirt and worn riding jeans. "They should fit."

 

Billy

Billy gives a disapproving look, and sniffs himself. "I smell fine.. Plus I like this outfit."

 

Holden

"You may like it, but I'm not riding with you whilst you smell like that. You'll be wearing them again tomorrow when they're dry, don't you worry," he holds out the clothes again.

 

Billy

"Fine.." He'd snatch the clothes and walk behind the tent, before stripping down and changing into the new ones. He personally thought these ones smelt bad and walked back to his horse sulking. He'd saddle Manu again.

 

Holden

Holden chuckles under his breath, shaking his head. He clicks his tongue and his mount perks up and trots over, already saddled.

"Don't worry. Going by how you smell right now, it won't take long for them to start smelling like you too."

He swings himself into the saddle, giving his mount a hearty pat.

 

Billy

He'd swing himself onto Manu. And would give him a light kick to the side, causing him to start a trot.

 

Holden

The day is decently hot, but the trot creates a pleasant breeze as the two begin their trek through the forest. Holden's moustache twitches as he smiles, taking in the scenery for a while as he and Billy head further north and eventually down to the river.

"The hills just north of the river are full of game. I can show you how to shoot that gun right."

 

Billy

"I know how to shoot, whatcha suggestin'?"

 

Holden

He clicks his tongue. "Aiming a gun at a stagecoach driver and taking down a deer to maintain its pelt have their mighty differences."

 

Billy

In the distance, Billy could see another stage coach. This one had four riders by its side. Billy gave a large chuckle and pointed down at them. "Holden! Holden look!"

 

Holden

Holden's arm goes up, holding Billy back. "Careful," he growls, his other hand slipping his scarf over his mouth and nose.

 

Billy

"It is an armoured bloody stagecoach. I got a scope, we can go up the hill shoot em and then charge down. That would be fun. " Billy was giddy again.

 

Holden

His eyes flick from person to person, taking in the situation. Poorly protected, presumably sons or friends and no hired guns. The coach itself is hardly 'armoured', but Holden could see how Billy would assume that. He stays rooted to the spot, taking his time to think, and careful to hold Billy back until he's sure.

But then the driver meets Holden's eye and he freezes, familiarity washing over his face. "No. No, you're not ready. Back up," he warns Billy.

 

Billy

Billy kicks Manu's side hard, and the horse gallops forward. Instead of going up the hill, Manu goes straight down the hill right towards the carriage, Billy pulls out his gun and goes to fire at one of the boys at the back, when Manu trips over a large stone, and they both fall to the ground.

Billy crawls to his feet, searching in the distance for Holden, obviously injured.

The two men at the back of the coach, would ride towards Billy. Billy would open fire at one of the men, hitting him in the head. The other blasted him in the gut with a repeater. Billy fell back into the small river, and started to bleed out.

 

Holden

"You goddamn fool!" Holden growls, spurring his mount into a gallop and firing wildly at the ground around the riders, startling them into a gallop as he begins yelling. "Get out of here!" He spins around to descend the riverbank, kicking up dust as the ground is sprayed with bullets, the origins of which are audibly getting further away.

With a hiss, he drops to his feet. His shoulder is bleeding, having obviously been grazed and his horse heaves with frightened, shivering breaths. He sounds wounded too, but Billy is in trouble, and he isn't so sure the riders are gone. Without a moment's hesitation, he dives into the river after Billy, forcing himself to swim despite the obvious aching in his arm, and with all his might wrapping an arm around the smaller man.

They pass over a few small rapids, lucky the river isn't too fast moving, and as the river meanders they are cast onto a riverbank, Holden landing face-down in the dirt, an arm still around Billy.

 

Billy

Billy would cough up water, before wiping his eyes.

"Fuck, my chest is killing." He placed a hand on his gut and it became bloodied, he started to panic. "Am I going to die?"

 

Holden

Holden drags himself to his hands and knees then drops back down with a cry as his arm gives out under him. "Sonofabitch!"

After a moment to recover a little, he leans on his good arm and glares at Billy. His eyes are dark. "You absolute fucking idiot! You'd sully my reputation over what? A piece of trash wagon?"

Holden groans as he pulls himself to his knees, despite everything giving Billy's wound all of his attention. "You need some help, but god knows if we can find any in Valentine." He chews his lip, his shoulder bleeding a fresh stain into his shirt before jumping into action, hands on his shoulders. "Get up. Come on, we gotta move."

 

Billy

Billy would wobble to his feet. He'd whistle for Manu, but the horse did not come. "Where's Manu?" He asked. As he held onto Holden's arm. " are you angry at me? Am I in trouble? "

"Where's Manu?" He repeated. Behind them laid the dead corpse of Manu. Pelted to death with repeater cartridges .

 

Holden

Struggling to help Billy to his feet, Holden snaps. "Worry about your goddamn self right now, kid." He exhales deeply as they rise. "And yes I'm angry. What the hell were you thinking?"

His horse, finally having caught up with them, comes walking towards them. He has a fresh red line just under his eye, a bullet obviously having come way too close.

 

Billy

Billy would get on the back of the horse, "It was an accident, I swear. I kicked the horse I thought it would go up not down."

He groaned in pain as his gut started to hurt more. "Can we hurry, I feel like I'm going to die. Literally."

 

Holden

Holden steadies Billy with a hand on his knee then rests his forehead in his hands. "Yeah, I know. Just... shit what are we going to do? We can't go back to Valentine. The law'll be too hot for a couple of injured criminals."

He climbs up into the saddle in front of Billy and eases his mount into a trot. "We've gotta... we've gotta get somewhere inconspicuous."

"Strawberry. Nobody's ask too many questions there. But we gotta move quick. Just... hold on, okay?"

His horse speeds up into a canter.

 

Billy 

"Where's Manu?" He grunts in pain.

 

Holden 

"He's dead!" Holden snaps, then his voice softens and becomes thick. "He's dead, I'm sorry, kid. But this shit happens when you don't plan out jobs."

 

Logan 

((New Dutch Van Der Linde))

 

Holden

(Fuck what? Nooo. OHGOD WHAT HAVE I BECOME)

 

Billy

Billy would start a small cry. "Dead? Is he really.. What about all my gear.."

 

Holden

He sighs, letting the silence draw out for a while, instead letting it fill with the thumping of hooves on dirt and the huffing of his mount. "I know. It's just how it is sometimes. I..."

Holden frowns to himself, thinking a moment. "We can get through this, don't worry about it, kid. Just, focus on yourself for now, okay? We haven't got far to go."

 

Billy

Billy would hold onto his gut, and would pass out due to blood loss.

 

Holden

They both fall silent, each focusing on their respective injuries as the horse carries them along the road - granted, Holden's isn't as bad as Billy, but it still hurts like a bitch. It takes a decent while, but they are soon approaching Strawberry, Holden's horse slowing to a trot as they approach the main street.

Holden drops from his horse as they arrive, grunting as his feet hit the ground. "Come on, we need to get to the doctor."

 

Billy

Billy was still, almost as if he were dead.

 

Holden

"Billy?" his face pales and he reaches up to grab the young man with his arms under his shoulders, dragging him from the horse. "Stay with me, kid."

He can feel a strong pulse on his forearms as he locks his hands on Billy's front and drags him up the steps to the doctor's office.

 

Logan

Strangely enough logan would See these two while Saying hello to everybody in town he extremely confused. but, at the same time extremely Interested. He began trotting to the side of them "What is going on Here?"

 

Holden

"Sir," Holden grunts with the effort, his shoulder visibly wounded. "Would you mind assisting me? He needs to see the doctor, now."

Billy is covered in a fair bit of blood in Holden's arms.

 

Logan

He'd see the injured man. By his Judgement he would decide to help. He would get off his horse and come towards him. "So, the doctor office is right in front of you. I can help him come and assist you."

 

Holden

"If you could grab his legs we could carry him inside."

 

Logan

"Uh... I can do that." Kind of disgusted, he would grab some spare gloves out of pocket and put them on. Then grab the injured man's legs. trying not to get blood on him.

 

Holden

They haul Billy into the door of the #strawberry-doctors-office, Holden calling out for assistance. A nurse immediately comes to their aid, and helps to get Billy into the room. When he is settled, Holden and Logan are ushered into the waiting room for the time being, Holden having a steralized cloth pressed to his hand for his shoulder.

Holden slumps down into a chair, hissing as he holds the cloth to his shoulder.

 

Logan

He'd sit two seat's away from him. He would have a Confused look on his face. "What exactly happened here?"

 

Holden

He chuckles once dryly under his breath. "We were jumped on the road to Strawberry. Fuckers killed his horse and robbed us. I appreciate the help, partner."

 

Logan 

"Hmm, do you have any guns on you?" He'd would start to act more and more Interested.

 

Holden

Holden lifts the base of his jacket to check on his two revolvers which are still holstered, thank god. "Not much else, I'm afraid."

 

Logan

"How well can you shoot, as well as your friend here?"

 

Holden

"Not particularly well."

 

Logan

He'd start lowering his voice. "Hmm, so why did you not use your guns when they robbed you?"

 

Holden

"Like I said, sir, I'm not a good shot. 'Sides, I didn't have time to react. They shot first, asked second. The bastard's lucky to be alive."

 

Logan

"How many of the robbers were there?" Logan would try to get more info.

 

Holden

"How many? Four or five I think," he shakes his head, looking down. He has a way of drawing a person in and he seems pretty genuine.

 

Logan

"So, if there were four or five wouldn't you be dead. Five to two?"

 

Holden

Holden meets the man's eyes. His eyes are glazed over and soft. "A robber doesn't aim to kill you. I'm guessin' Billy was just the result of a poor shot at his horse. And I didn't stop to ask. I was left no choice but to drop what we had and protect the kid."

 

Logan

"Wouldn't they see your Weapons or Revolvers at the time. Then, take those too?"

 

Holden

"Look buddy, take it or leave it. But if you're gonna ask me questions I can't answer, then don't bother. Anyway," he pulls out a revolver and shows it to the man. It's clearly rusted and of very poor quality. He then slides it back into the holster and presses the cloth to his shoulder again, cursing under his breath.

 

Logan

Logan would finally get to the point of all of this. "You seem lucky to get out of that alive then, don't you say?"

 

Holden

"I have a ripped open shoulder and my friend is essentially on his deathbed. If that's what you call alive, then yeah, I guess we are lucky. You sound awful suspicious for someone so eager to help the wounded."

 

Logan

"I can say the same to you sir." Logan would begin to raise his hat off his head and grab something out of it. "I have a job for you. because you aren't going to be able to pay for the bill. Just let me get something really quick."

 

Holden

Holden eyes the man, seemingly unsure. He shuffles in his seat.

 

Logan

"You see, strawberry is a nice town filled with Sober people, We don't have a Parlor, So, we can barely make enough money to keep the town Running besides the fact of the tree cutting company nearby. So, the bill is going to be high and I pay good. So, heres the deal how you can pay your bill. You either work at the Tree company nearby, which on it's own makes almost no profit on it's own, or you can rob and steal, which will get you caught, Or you can work for me and get real money?" Finally find a note in his hat Handing it to Holden It reading 'The Strawberry runners. More info at the hotel.'

 

Holden

He listens to the man, then reads the note he passes him. A moment passes and he looks back up at his, meeting his gaze. "I... I'll consider it. Thanks for your help, partner."

 

Logan

"You'll get wrecked in mah town."

 

Holden

"Then best not worry yourself over two corpses."

"I can pay the bill. Don't you worry."

 

Logan

"Let's see." Logan would get up out of his seat and walk outside.

 

Holden

Holden watches the man go, shaking his head in disbelief. "What a town."

He rests his head back against the wall, waiting for the nurse and doctor to finish with Billy.

 .・。.・゜✯

Some time has passed, and Holden sits with his head on his hands, ignoring the dull thrumming of the wound on his shoulder. His mind is cloudy and he's deep in thought, staring at the door directly opposite him, awaiting something to happen.

 .・。.・゜✯

Eventually, finally, something does. The door opens and Billy is awake enough to be assisted out, leaning on the shoulder of the nurse. Holden jumps forward and takes the weight off the woman.

"Thank you, ma'am. I really appreciate it," he says, handing her a bill to pay for the treatment.

Thought it's a struggle, he manages to guide Billy out the door and down the steps, and then slowly, but surely along to road to the hotel.

He normally wouldn't splurge on a hotel, but Billy needs to rest. The manager gets to their feet, thankfully eager to assist Holden with getting Billy up the stairs to a room and on the bed, the key of which is pressed into Holden's hand afterwards. He thanks the manager, saying they are likely to stay for a couple of days.

Holden then tosses himself into the chair by the window, soon succumbing to the exhaustion of the day and falling asleep with his head leant against the pane.


	3. Day 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A reminder that this is all spontaneously written! Please excuse any mistakes or bad pacing.
> 
> Again, this roleplay takes place in 1899. For those who have read some of my current story Hellfire, you would know that that takes place in 1895, four years prior to this. Hellfire is focued on Holden's outlaw lifestyle after losing Hanschen. You may notice some things being mentioned in this RP that have not come up before now - yes, these can be considered spoilers! Since 1895, a lot has happened. But most importantly, that lifestyle is behind Holden and he is not too keen to get it started up again any time soon. But who knows what'll happen? For now he is a skilled hunter, much like before the events of Hellfire when he used to hunt with Hanschen, trying to live a semi-honest lifestyle. But shit happens. Holden has matured over the years, and is much more considerate than in Hellfire or before. He takes the time to consider what the best options are.

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Day 3

Holden

Light streams through the curtains, bathing Holden's face in a bright, warm glow and causing him to grunt and scrunch his eyebrows. He opens his eyes to block the light with his hand and looks around, a bit confused at first.

Oh yeah. They're in the hotel. What a stupid day that was yesterday.

He huffs as he gets to his feet, checking over Billy's wound. It looks much better, thank god. But it'll be a couple of days yet.

Holden flops back down into the chair, resting his head his hands.

 

Billy

Billy's eyes would open, and he would take in a deep breath, before trying to sit upright. He looked around and saw Holden sitting in the chair giving him a smile. He looked down upon the wound and placed a cold hand on it.

 

Holden

Holden, whose head had drooped a little as he dozed off, stirs and exhales, slowly opening his eyes as he raises his head to see Billy moving. He gives a little lopsided smile through his fatigue.

"Hey, kid. You all right?"

 

Billy

"Yeah, I'm alive, thanks to you. You know I'm sorry about the whole, Valentine thing. I fucked up and I apologise."

 

Holden

Holden exhales again as he stretches, his back aching from having slept in a chair the past couple of days, his wound not having healed properly. He waves a hand dismissively at Billy.

"Let's just, not think about it for now. What matters is that you're doing better. Our welcome has long-since worn out here and we should be on the road again soon, else that corrupt sheriff'll be on our asses. Can you stand?"

 

Billy

"Let's hope." Billy swings his legs off the hed and holds onto the frame as he pulls himself up, he stumbles a few steps before steadying himself and walking ever so slowly. "Where now?"

 

Holden

Watching as Billy fumbles to stand without falling, Holden too gets to his feet, shuffling into his boots. He gives the room a once-over to check they haven't forgotten anything, then gives Billy a faint smile.

"I say we get on the road. Come on, 'Draw is saddled and waiting for us outside."

 

Billy

Billy gives a sigh. "Any news on Manu's body..?" He would hold onto a banister as he slowly walked down the stairs.

 

Holden

Holden holds his hands out ready, following behind in case he trips. "I'm afraid not," he responds. "I haven't been out of town. Didn't want to be too far in case something happened."

 

Billy

"Fair enough, have you got any... Alcohol for me?A rum would be nice."

"Oh, of course you don't drink." He'd give a sigh. Before finally reaching the bottom of the stairs, he would waddle out of the hotel and walk towards Holden's hitched horse.

 

Holden

They step out onto the road, Holden a little easier than Billy of course, and Holden retrieves a bottle from his satchel, passing it to the kid. "You're injured, so I splurged a little."

 

Billy

Billy gives a chuckle, and virtually snatches it from his grasp, prying open the lid and taking a large slug, before wiping his mouth with a sleeve and giving a large belch. "Damn, tastes so good." He smiles, " Many thanks Holden. "

 

Holden

"Not a problem," he chuckles, gesturing Billy to mount the horse. "We'll find you a replacement for Manu soon. For now this'll have to do."

 

Billy

"He will never be forgotten." Billy now with more motivation mounts the horse and sits idle.

 

Holden

Holden sucks his teeth and sighs before climbing up in front of Billy. "Okay?" he asks, then gently spurs his horse into a walk. The two set off along the main road and out of Strawberry.


	4. Day 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A reminder that this is all spontaneously written! Please excuse any mistakes or bad pacing.
> 
> Again, this roleplay takes place in 1899. For those who have read some of my current story Hellfire, you would know that that takes place in 1895, four years prior to this. Hellfire is focued on Holden's outlaw lifestyle after losing Hanschen. You may notice some things being mentioned in this RP that have not come up before now - yes, these can be considered spoilers! Since 1895, a lot has happened. But most importantly, that lifestyle is behind Holden and he is not too keen to get it started up again any time soon. But who knows what'll happen? For now he is a skilled hunter, much like before the events of Hellfire when he used to hunt with Hanschen, trying to live a semi-honest lifestyle. But shit happens. Holden has matured over the years, and is much more considerate than in Hellfire or before. He takes the time to consider what the best options are.

▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓

Day 4

Holden

The day is dreary, a thick layer of clouds threatening to break overhead and spill their tears onto the travellers below, caring not for their lack of protection. Two such travellers are huddled beneath a weak, makeshift tent against the side of the cliff, one still asleep.

The awake, Holden, leans against the pole holding the sheets above their heads, the small book he retrieved days before opened in his hands. His eyes are soft and sheened over as he tries to concentrate on the words, but they twist and dance in front of him, disappearing into black spirals, as his eyes dampen. He rubs at them with the back of his hand, inhaling sharply as he does, snapping the book shut and looking out of the shelter instead.

The clouds don't move as much, clumped together in a thick, dark ceiling. He just sits there staring at them.


	5. Day 5-16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A reminder that this is all spontaneously written! Please excuse any mistakes or bad pacing.
> 
> Again, this roleplay takes place in 1899. For those who have read some of my current story Hellfire, you would know that that takes place in 1895, four years prior to this. Hellfire is focued on Holden's outlaw lifestyle after losing Hanschen. You may notice some things being mentioned in this RP that have not come up before now - yes, these can be considered spoilers! Since 1895, a lot has happened. But most importantly, that lifestyle is behind Holden and he is not too keen to get it started up again any time soon. But who knows what'll happen? For now he is a skilled hunter, much like before the events of Hellfire when he used to hunt with Hanschen, trying to live a semi-honest lifestyle. But shit happens. Holden has matured over the years, and is much more considerate than in Hellfire or before. He takes the time to consider what the best options are.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a short summary chapter considering not a lot happened in this timeframe!
> 
> I'm only including a part of the roleplay with Minerva because frankly it was very out of character for Holden, and not a lot happened anyway. And for the meeting with Derek and Agatha; Derek sort of stumbled into the scene planned so the pacing all-around is a little choppy. The scene also dies out because of Agatha's player and myself going AFK.

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Day 5-9

Holden slowly starts to take up drinking again, plagued by the memories Valentine holds.

 

 

Day 9

Holden meets Minerva-Cora (Minne) Kidd on an evening where he drinks far too much. He likes her, but doesn't expect to come across her again.

  .・。.・゜✯

Holden

In the corner of the saloon, beneath a cloud of smoke drifting from his cigarette, sits Holden, an empty bottle in hand.

 

Minerva

Minerva had returned to the saloon. Possibly to bug or help out Allis with serving drinks. Tomorrow, she’ll have to explore Valentine more to figure out where to set up shop. It should be easy enough, right? Minnie had roamed around the place, searching for her new friend, but began to cough when she walked through the cloud of smoke.

 

Holden

Gripping the cigarette between his teeth, Holden looks up from under his hat at the woman entering. He doesn't portray any expression. He just kind of... stares at her.

 

Minerva

Minerva waved a hand in front of her face to clear the smoke, her eyes watering. Where was Allis? Sure he wasn’t that tall but, surely she could of saw his red hair from afar.

 

Holden

He puts the bottle onto the table and sits back in his chair, which creaks as he does so, folding his arms as he watches her. With having nothing better to do, and with the saloon having been so empty all day, he is in need of some entertainment.

 

Minerva

She glanced over her shoulder, looking to where the sound came from. Seeing Holden, she simply gave a sweet smile and continued on her way towards the counter.

 

Holden

A moment passes where Holden registers the smile she gave him. That sweet, innocent smile. Nobody smiles like that at him, or at anybody around here if he's honest. It makes him wonder who the hell she is and what she's doing here.

Taking his cigarette in his lips, he gets to his feet, chair scraping the ground, and makes his way over to the counter. He settles a few feet away to be inconspicious and orders himself another beer, ears perked.

 

Minerva

Minerva had now been settled on a tall stool, listening to what the older bartender was saying. Obviously they must of been close friends, judging by the pet-names he gave her. Such as “Minnie” or “Sweetheart.” Though, she only had a glass of water, not wanting to repeat the same drunken mystery again with someone else or Allis.

 

Holden

Holden watches the interaction, eyes flicking from bartender to "Minnie", if that is her real name, and back again. They appear close, and it puts him a little on edge to not say anything wrong to the bartender, like he did in Keane's Saloon the other night. He shuffles on his feet, spurs jingling, and his lips fumbling with the top of his bottle, trying to distract himself somehow.

 

 

Day 10-14  


Slow days of Holden hunting, healing his and Billy's wounds and drinking in the evenings.

 

 

Day 15

Holden meets Agatha Akwesi and briefly Derek Sims (doesn‘t trust Derek).

Holden and Billy are making plans to leave the area with Holden struggling emotionally and Billy suffering from his injuries. They decide to make for New Austin.

 .・。.・゜✯

Agatha

The cling cling clang of a horse loaded with wares sounded in the distance as Agatha rode into this new town. There was nothing all that valuable in those wares, just an easel, a fishing rod and some pots and pans for nomadic living. Barely anything worth more than a mere dollar. What would have probably been a well knowm stop for the majority of folks living in these parts was a new landmark crossed by the Floridan who had just started her voyage out west. She wouldn't stick around for long though, just long enough to see the environement and note if it was any aesthetically pleasing or not- she needed to work on her architecture anyways.

At the mouth of the town of Valentine, the woman reined Shortbread off the road and into the sidelines to stop so she wouldnt disturb traffic as she pulled out a worn, leatherbound book and began to quickly sketch what she saw down into the yellowing pages for quick practise and documentation of her travels.

 

Holden

As he bathes in the midday sunlight, Holden leans against the wall of the stables. His hat sits at a slant, obscuring most of his vision, and a cigarette hangs loosely on his lower lip. He observes a wagon come to a halt just in his field of view and tilts his head up a bit to see a young woman sketching in her journal. Holden sucks his teeth, cigarette balancing precariously.

 

Derek

Riding from the same direction, a young man dressed in a worn trail duster and a standard cowboy hat upon his head, was riding in the same direction at the woman, who he saw pull off to the side and pull out a book. Lemon, Derek's horse, saw hers and whinnied, gazing at the other steed with lazy eyes, and turned suddenly, the sleek yellow horse trotting over, despite Derek's protest with the reins. "Daw, come on, boy, this way," he complained, his southern accent gently twisting the words slightly, tugging on his reins. Though he and Lemon were close, it was Lemon who decided where to go and when this time. He sniffed at Agatha's horse before neighing softly, and Derek looked at Agatha before scratching the back of his head nervously, before giving a somewhat embarrassed smile, and said, "I'm sorry, ma'am... he isn't usually like this..."

Derek scratched at his small beard, still unaccustomed to the hairs on his face. He thought it would've come in a few years later, definitely not at the ripe age of 19. However, this simply wasn't the case, and he lowered his hand and took hold of the horn of the saddle, resting his hand atop of it.

 

Agatha

Shortbread was never really a very reactive steed, nothing stirred her, not even the approaching stallion that got in her space. She had propped up a leg that quickly stiffened when he came over, her massive head swinging over to snort towards the male in gentle greeting. The book Agatha was sketching in was clutched to her abdomen, as if hiding what she was doing when her eyes settled on a rather sheepish looking young man. She seemed stern-eyed and unfeeling at first, but when she saw that this fellow was just... a young and awkward one, she sent him a smile.

”That’s okay sir, Shorty’s a sweetie, she enjoys the company.” She said, a hand stretching out to pat against the mule’s broad neckside, the mare chuffing at the other horse. ”She’s big but... She’s jus’a li’l baby.” She laughed a bit at that, her eyes crinkling with a faint smile.

 

Holden

Holden flicks the brim of his hat, straightening it on his head as he watches the couple converse. Curious, he grips the cigarette between his lips and wanders closer, hands in the pockets of his leather jacket.

 

Derek

"That's good to know." He said, chuckling a little. He felt more at ease as her stern look turned to a smile, and Derek readjusted himself in the saddle to a more relaxed position as Lemon cooed back to Shortbread.

Derek looked over in surprise as someone's horse reared and screamed, before seeing a snake hiss and slither off the road, which made Derek nod slowly in realization.

Lemon shook his head as the hair on too of his head covered his head, and Derek patted the brumby, and gently shushed him. Derek then looked up to the woman and asked, "You got a name, miss?"

 

Agatha

It had been a while Shortbread had been with another horse, her teammate that would pull wagons with her had unfortunately passed away. Agatha could only smile as she watched the mare blow little puffs of gentle greeting through her flared nostrils, like an approving mother witnessing her child make a new friend. She probably felt awfully lonely, the encounter was probably a good change of scenery.

When a horse nearby seemed to have gone in a panic, the draft mule sidestepped to observe what had been the disturbance, a slight nicker indicating her concern as she spared a glance towards a snake that slithered by, the reptile was warned by a stomped of one of her massive hooves. It didn’t get much closer.

Agatha laughed slightly, her head shaking. Back in Florida when the seasons were... normal snakes would be out and about all season long. She often carried a stick with her to use as a hook to prevent the venomous one’s from getting at her when harvesting fruit.

Facing Derek again, Agatha shifted on her saddle and hooked the reins on the horn. ”Miss Akwasi, sir, but please call me Agatha.” there was a shy sort of trill to her voice, her answer rather quiet, but audible. Private.

 

Holden

After taking a moment to observe the two introducing their horses and not being able to make out their conversation, Holden decides to clear his throat and step up to them, offering a stupid smile under his moustache.

"Not often we get two new people to town at once. Y'all travelling together?"

 

Agatha

Another man’s voice pipped up and caught Agatha’s attention. Her calloused fingers twiddled with the reins she had hooked on the horn of her saddle anxiously, awkward laughter now rising and dropping her shoulders at a rhythmic pace as she answered him.

”No sir, we’ve just been talkin’, ain’t that right mister....?” She cocked her head towards Derek then, hoping he’s finish her sentence with his name.

 

Derek

"Derek. My name is Derek," he said, nodding his head in agreement to her statement. Before facing the man whom asked. "I've just got here, came all the way from Saint Denis, friend. I got to Saint Denis from Chigaco, and to Chicago from New London, in Iowa." Derek flashed him a smile, displaying even, white teeth for a moment. Strange, for a cowboy. "Where are you from, mister?" He asked, before sniffing, ducking up the mucus from his nose.

 

Holden

"Saint Denis, huh? Not a bad town if you can look past the people," he says with a laugh. "But it sure sounds like you get around, my friend." Holden then turns his attention back to Agatha. "Hate to impose, but what breed is your horse? He lo--.." he checks a moment then corrects himself, "She looks to be part donkey. Am I right? I've worked with mules before."

 

Agatha

She was quiet when Derek spoke of his travels, upturned eyes sparkling with interest. It seemed that she was not the only traveller to cross this road, the man had been from an entirely different end of the country while she was from the eastern coastline. She found it interesting, though that interest was expressed through attentive silence. Her chin perked when Holgen spoke towards her way again, her lips parting to reveal pearly whites as she looked between Shortbread’s rather massive ears towards him.

”Yessir, part donkey, other part Belgian Draft.” she’d say informatively, wavering slightly in her saddle as the mare propped a leg up, causing her spine to shift and Agatha on it. ”Use’ta be a farm horse, plowin’ fields and such, I think she enjoys the rest from all of that.” her hand reached out again to run through the mule’s wirey blonde mane affectionately as she spoke, pulling away after a few little pats, the other hand that was still clutching to her paint-stained sketchbook closed it and settled it into her saddlebag, settling it right behind a wooden pallet.

 

Derek

Derek looked over to her as she spoke of living on a farm, the brim of his hat covering the topside of his face, giving him and angling shadow across his face. He huffed with amusement, they grew up the same way. He was slightly annoyed with the man because Derek had assumed he ignored his question. But he didn't complain or anything of the sort, he just felt that the man was purposely avoiding it, but Derek couldn't divulge the reason, despite silently attempting to figure it.

The nearby town smelled like cow shit, sweat, and beer. It reminded him of home, which made him have a kinder disposition of the small community, even though he had yet to enter its perimeter.

 

Holden

From under his brow Holden eyes up the man who had introduced himself as Derek as Agatha told him about her horse, gaze flicking down to his shoulders as they fall in a huff, then back up to his widened nostrils. He nestles and wipes his expression to meet Agatha's with a fresh smile, not feigning interest but hiding disinterest for Derek.

"I've not heard of a Belgian Draft mule before, ma'am, but then again that's just me. Seems a smart decision in all honesty. They're strong horses that. Trustworthy too."

 

Agatha

”Stubborn, too.” Added Agatha with a few light chuckles, hands now resting over top of the pummel of her saddle before her eyes flicked elsewhere, peering down the roads and over towards the buildings that stood in rows before her, observing the tethered horses and strolling civilians.

”Do you fellows know if there’s a trough nearby? Or a stable? Shorty could use a good drink right about now.” maybe later she’d bring her to a patch of grass to graze and unsaddle her, or at least loosen her girth to give her a bit of slack and rest.

 

Derek

Derek shrugged, and said, "No ma'am, I've no idea. I suppose they'd have a stable or somethin', this' livestock town, you can tell by the smell. Same goes for the bar. Saloon's somewhere 'round here."

Lemon whinnied, and kneaded the grass with his hoof, churning the grass and revealing damp mud underneath, his tail flicking gently to ward off flies and such. Derek coughed a few times, into the bandana around his neck, before clearing his throat. "Well, I should get outa yer hair, miss," he said, ripping his hat to her. He enjoyed the short conversation, and hoped he might get the chance to talk with her again.

 

Holden

He nods to Agatha and gestures behind him at the building he was just leaning against.

"This is the town's stables, but there's a tough by the general store if you're not one to pay for it, ma'am."

Holden chances another glance at Derek as he says his parting words, opting to nod at him. He gets the feeling Derek doesn't like the look of him and he's not one to force anything upon another.

 

Agatha

”I’m sure I’ll find something.” Said Agatha to Derek, and as he began to give her a final goodbye, she found herself with no hat to tip in response, though almost naturally, as if out of instinct, she dipped her head as if she had a brim to cock down anyways. ”It was nice meetin’ you mister Derek. Have a good evening.”

She picked up Shortbread’s reins and leaned forward, hands grasping at the pummel of her saddle before she swing her leg over and practically fell off the mule’s back onto the ground, guiding the reins down the mare’s head and holding it firmly so she wouldn’t drop her head down to graze. Now off her steed she was awfully small in stature, tilting her head up just to meet Holden’s eyes now she was on the ground. ”And where would that be?” She would further inquire, referring to the general store that was mentioned

 

Holden

Holden takes a moment to watch Derek depart then returns his attention to Agatha as she drops to the ground, holding out a hand to steady her should she fall - that damn mule is a long way up.

"I'll show you where the general store is if you'll follow me, ma'am," he offers, making for her to accompany him up the road to the #valentine-main-road in town. "And I'm not sure I caught your name."

 

Agatha

Mahogany eyes flicked down towards Holden’s kindly stretched out hand, blinking for a second as she saw it before realizing why it was being held out. She smiled at the generosity and then let out a quick ”oh!” as her name was brought up again. ”It’s Agatha, sir, pleasure to meet ya.” she let out a hand while the other clutched to the reins still, offering a handshake if the other man would even take it. It would be the thought that counted either way. ”Thank you for taking the time.”

 

 

Day 16

A day of making preparations in town.


	6. Day 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A reminder that this is all spontaneously written! Please excuse any mistakes or bad pacing.
> 
> Again, this roleplay takes place in 1899. For those who have read some of my current story Hellfire, you would know that that takes place in 1895, four years prior to this. Hellfire is focued on Holden's outlaw lifestyle after losing Hanschen. You may notice some things being mentioned in this RP that have not come up before now - yes, these can be considered spoilers! Since 1895, a lot has happened. But most importantly, that lifestyle is behind Holden and he is not too keen to get it started up again any time soon. But who knows what'll happen? For now he is a skilled hunter, much like before the events of Hellfire when he used to hunt with Hanschen, trying to live a semi-honest lifestyle. But shit happens. Holden has matured over the years, and is much more considerate than in Hellfire or before. He takes the time to consider what the best options are.

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Day 17

Holden

Through a thick layer of mist resting on the surface of the Upper Montana river walks Holden with his hand shielding his squinted eyes, trying to make out something, anything, as he stalks through the shallow water. His hand grips tightly onto the reins of his bronco who chuffs behind him, taking less care for his footing and stomping rather dramatically into the water. Astride Quickdraw slumps a tired Billy, arms resting across a duffle perched between his legs on the pommel, trying his best not to slip from the horse. Occasionally Holden will look back to check that he is still upright.

The going is slow, but has thus far been very efficient. They must have set off early morning around 3am sometime and they're already crossing over into Great Plains where Holden hopes for them to stop off in Blackwater to refill necessities before continuing later today in the evening when the sun isn't burning as hot. For now the weather isn't too bad, save for the blasted fog that chokes the air and clings to the hairs on his forearms in a million tiny droplets.

They haven't had any issues so far, thank god. The crap Billy caused near Valentine didn't seem to raise too many eyebrows and they had gotten out of the area without so much as a second glance from anyone, thank god. If anything, his drinking caused more issues. But their luck could always change.

Holden absent-mindedly grinds his teeth, a thousand thoughts rushing through his mind as he clambers onto the riverbank, his horse stumbling behind him. New Austin is massive - he's not very likely to come across any old friends, but the concern still prods at him worse than the thought that they might have been followed. It's not like they're in any actual danger. He's just been left too long with his own thoughts, and could really do with that break. Not much further.

.・。.・゜✯

Having finally arrived in Blackwater after a long, tiring walk, Holden is exhausted. He closes the door to the room he has rented for Billy to rest in and leans against it for a moment, eyes closed. The sounds of laughter and glasses clinking echo up the stairs as he stands in silence. He's had too much time to think and he feels like absolute shit. What he could really go for right now is a drink.

Adjusting his hat and tugging at the corners of his jacket, Holden descends the stairs of the saloon and makes a beeline straight for the bar. He leans on his elbows and gestures for a drink, which the bartender happily slides him before resuming his conversation with another patron to give Holden his privacy. He stays stood like that, elbows taking most of his weight to ease the sores on his feet, lips fumbling with the top of the bottle.

 

Louis

The ever-so gloomy aura of the man radiated towards the cowboy-looking woman who strife in, at first looking for sporting women, then next noticing the moroseness. She pulled her seat arms-width away from the man and cleared her voice accordingly, handing over the coin for a beer and letting it cool her hot, tired hands.

“Why, your face is so long I’d think you a horse.” She gave a slight smile to assure the comment was in good nature, taking a sip slowly.

 

Holden

Holden raises an eyebrow and gives the woman a sideways glance before taking a deep drink from his bottle. He replaces it on the counter, hand still gripping it as he turns slightly to look at her.

"Not the first time. I've once been told someone wouldn't be able to pick me out from a lineup of horses."

 

Louis

After setting down her bottle, Louis gave a slight chuckle to his comment. “I’d agree with them. Why are you so sad, my friend?” She looked him over subtly, taking in his image. The man seemed to be one who lived off the land, and loneliness was common amongst them. Was this poor trapper lonely?

 

Holden

"Hard to say, if I'm honest," he says, looking down at his bottle. "Just life being a piece of shit, I suppose."

 

Louis

She was quiet for a second, as if to think of what she was to say, before sighing. "Life is a piece'a shit. This problem's got it's place though, an you've just gotta cowboy up." She took a long swig of her beer, hissing contently and grumbling. "You need a home, pardner? A woman? A horse?"

 

Holden

Holden's eyebrows draw together and he drops his head to face the counter, hand gripping the bottle a little tighter. "No. I'm just fine, thank you."

 

Louis

She noticed his discontent with what she said, twisting her face slightly. "I was only offering, my friend. For the right price, I could get all of those for you." Half a joke, she returned to her pocket to pull a cigarette hand-rolled out of a small tin and light it off a match she struck off her boot. "You gonna can youself all this time? You'll die with your problems." Louis took a hit and burnt through the tobacco, flicking it off a tray and exhaling.

 

Holden

Head still drooped, Holden turns to look at her, his eyes dark. He takes a moment to watch her then says, "Yeah well I'm better off than I used to be. And I'm not canning myself. Shame on me for not crying to every Joe and Jane I meet."

He takes a deep drink.

 

Louis

Louis paused. She stared off for a moment before opening her mouth to speak. "I talk to who listens. It may not be that you do that, but I'm listening, pardner." She was quiet otherwise, hitting her cigarette with eyes that seemed glazed over.

 

Holden

"I don't know you." Holden regards her briefly then shuffles on his feet. "Sorry, I don't mean to come across as rude. It's just not my thing, ma'am."

Reluctantly he pulls himself upright and turns around to lean back against the counter instead of looking across it, and holds his beer in his hand.

"Holden," he offers.

 

Louis

She was quiet to his comment, nodding in understanding before watching him change position and taking a sip of her beer. “Louis.” She replied curtly, clearing her voice.

 

Holden

"Pleasure." He clears his throat and looks down the neck of his bottle, his cheeks and the tips of his ears pink.

 

* * *

 

This role-play ended here unfortunately.


	7. Day 20-21

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A reminder that this is all spontaneously written! Please excuse any mistakes or bad pacing.
> 
> Again, this roleplay takes place in 1899. For those who have read some of my current story Hellfire, you would know that that takes place in 1895, four years prior to this. Hellfire is focued on Holden's outlaw lifestyle after losing Hanschen. You may notice some things being mentioned in this RP that have not come up before now - yes, these can be considered spoilers! Since 1895, a lot has happened. But most importantly, that lifestyle is behind Holden and he is not too keen to get it started up again any time soon. But who knows what'll happen? For now he is a skilled hunter, much like before the events of Hellfire when he used to hunt with Hanschen, trying to live a semi-honest lifestyle. But shit happens. Holden has matured over the years, and is much more considerate than in Hellfire or before. He takes the time to consider what the best options are.

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Day 20

Holden

It's an average day for Holden, still not having found the balls to continue his journey further west. He sits at the counter, head drooped and swimming - not from the alcohol, just from thinking. For once his hand is empty of a bottle, and in its place is a clear glass of water.

 

Oliver

Oliver walked in, and he stepped over the man crawling on the floor. Filthy drunks.. He sauntered his way over to the counter, where he handed the bartender 50 cents and placed an order for some wine.

 

Holden

Out of the corner of his eye he sees a well-dressed man approach the counter and place a order, and he raises his head to look at him properly. He doesn't seem to fit in here. The wine must be good.

 

Oliver

The portly man received his order, and merely sipped the drink, wanting to savor it rather than rush. He glanced at Holden, but didn't pay much mind to him.

 

Holden

"Worth the money, partner?" he asks; anything to distract himself.

 

Oliver

"Oh, I've had better.." He replied promptly. The wine was good - for 50 cents…

 

Holden

Holden nods. "You don't look like you belong here, my friend."

 

Oliver

He chuckled. "Of course not, I'm the mayor." His blue eyes looked at Holden, surveying him. "You must not be from around here, friend."

 

Holden

He sits a little more upright, placing his glass on the counter, and offers the man a little smile. "You're right. I'm just passing through."

 

Oliver

"Well, it's always nice to see new faces around here. Apart from drunks.." He smiled at him, although briefly.

 

Holden

"I'm not a drunk, sir. At least at the best of times." Holden taps the side of his glass and chuckles. "I prefer to call myself a connoisseur."

 

Oliver

"Oh? I'm somewhat of a connoisseur myself." He glanced at his Reutlinger wrapped around his wrist. Getting a tad bit late.. "Perhaps you'd like to join me for tea? Tomorrow, maybe?"

 

Holden

He blinks then smiles at the man. "I would be honored to accompany you."

 

Oliver

"Splendid, so tomorrow afternoon?" He got up, preparing to depart for his estate.

 

Holden

Holden gets to his feet to see the man off, offering his hand. "Yes, that sounds good. Where should I--?"

 

Oliver

"It's the big house, near the capitol building. Just ask one of the guards--they'll let you in." He finished his drink, and left a dollar for a tip. He turned to Holden. "Where are you currently staying in town, if I may ask?"

 

Holden

He gestures upwards with a hand to the rooms that can be rented on the second floor. "A place best suited for my current funds. Thank you for the invitation, sir. Oh, and my name is Holden Dreer."

 

Oliver

"Oliver Rose, the pleasure is mine. Now, perhaps you'd like to stay in one of Blackwaters' fancier hotels? It would be on my tab." He looked at the man with a curious look. Surely he'd accept an opportunity like this?

 

Holden

He seems a little apprehensive at first, but isn't one to turn down free shit, so he nods. "Yeah, yeah thank you, sir."

 

Oliver

"Take this money, you could spend a week or more there." He handed Holden a thick wad of dollars. "Well, I'll be seeing you tomorrow." The man strolled out, onto the #blackwater-main-street.

 

Holden

Holden is taken aback, left standing at the counter with his hand full of dollar bills, just staring at it. _Holy shit._

After finally getting a grasp of the situation, grateful as ever, Holden dashes up the stairs to his and Billy's room to tell him what just happened and move them straight into the hotel. The idea of having his own bed makes his head ache.

It takes a while for them both to collect their belongings strewn throughout the room, but soon they're packed and ready to make the move, bags banging the banister as they descend into the bar, then out onto the street.

 

Day 21

Holden

After a wonderfully relaxed day has passed, Holden is feeling refreshed and like a new man. He's got a certain hop in his step as he strides over to his bags, fumbling with his clothing to pull out some things he hasn't worn in a long time, but the occassion calls for it. The mayor has invited him to his residence within the hour, and Holden can't very well showing up like a degenerate so he sets to working on himself.

It takes a little time, but after having washed and perfumed (yes, Holden wears a dull perfume often worn by men in Saint Denis), he dresses in his shirt, waistcoat, coat and pinstripe pants. Once dressed, he looks at himself in the mirror, a small smile forming on his lips. Now, he hasn't seen that reflection in a long, long time and it actually feels pretty good. And immediately he can tell the difference it makes. On his way out the front door of the hotel, other patrons actually turn to look at him - and not in a rude way, but with admiring looks and welcoming smiles! It gives Holden the extra boost he needs and he sets off down the road towards the #mayors-residence.

Holden approaches the doors of the residence and pulls at the collar of his coat and straightens his hat. He offers the guard a well-practiced, courtier smile, one he learnt to give from his time in Saint Denis, and tells him his name, saying he was requested today.

 

Oliver

The guard nodded to him, and opened the door for him.

 

Holden

He thanks the man and crosses the threshold. It's absolutely stunning inside, even more than the outside, the large entrance hall's walls decorated with fine paintings of noble men he does not know. Holden looks around as he walks inside, head raised to take in the high finely trimmed ceiling with its low-hanging, sparkling lights giving the entire place an certain atmosphere as though he is in a palace, shoes click-clacking on the black and white tiled flooring.

 

Oliver

Oliver strode out of a side room, out into the entrance hall where he approached Holden. His eyes surveyed Holden, stunned at the man's outfit. This was definitely not the same man he had met at the saloon yesterday. "Sleep well?" He asked, stopping a few feet away from Holden.

 

Holden

Upon hearing the mayor Holden turns to face him, offering him the same smile he gave the guard outside. "A pleasant day to you, sir. And indeed I did. I must thank you again for your generosity."

 

Oliver

"Well, I don't really do these types of things--but I made an exception." He returned the mans' smile, his eyes still studying him.

 

Holden

He examines Oliver in turn, particularly curious by the look in his eyes. "I am very appreciative."

 

Oliver

"Well, would you like to sit down?" He glanced at Holden, and he gestured with one hand towards the second floor.

 

Holden

"Of course. Please, lead the way."

 

Oliver

"Alright." He lead Holden up the red-carpeted stairs, onto the second floor opening up onto a large hall with doors lining each side. Oliver then lead him towards a brightly colored sitting room, filled with large sofas, chairs, cushions, and a window looking out onto Flat Iron Lake.

 

Holden

The room practically oozes success and Holden is taken aback a moment as he looks about the room, eyes shining. After years of living on the road, it's been such a long time since being in a room like this. Even the view out of the window is breathtaking in itself and he is distracted a moment as he looks out of it, watching the steamboats crossing it.

 

Oliver

"You may sit wherever you'd like--would you like a beverage perhaps? I could send a servant to fetch a bottle of brandy, or if you'd like, there's tea and coffee as well." Oliver said all of this rather fast by mistake--a common issue he had.

 

Holden

Holden chuckles softly and nods to Oliver. "A glass of brandy sounds dandy." He is still looking out of the window.

 

Oliver

"Okay then." He turned to a servant, muttering something, who nodded and left the room.

Oliver sat down on a rather oversized sofa--specially made for a man of his size. "Enjoying the view?"

 

Holden

In the far distance he can just make out Saint Denis and he stares out at it for a while before smiling again and walking over to the seats.

"Yes," he says, sinking into a luxuriously soft armchair, "I couldn't live here. I wouldn't get anything done with a view like that."

 

Oliver

"I feel you. Sometimes I come in here just for the view." The servant reentered, carrying a tray bearing a bottle of brandy and two glasses. The servant set it down before leaving the room.

 

Holden

Holden leans back in his chair and rests an ankle over his knees, a hand on his boot. "I don't blame you, sir."

 

Oliver

"There's no need for formalities, Holden. Call me Oliver." He laid down on his sofa, yawning.

 

Holden

Holden's moustache twitches as he smiles a little at Oliver's informality, feeling a little more relaxed.

"Can I pour you a drink?" he asks, leaning forward to pick up the bottle.

 

Oliver

"Sure." The portly man adjusted one of the couch cushions to a more comfortable position. "Where are you from?"

 

Holden

"I was born in Saint Denis," Holden responds as he removes the topper of the bottle, "but at the moment I don't have a place of residence.," he pours some into the glasses, "And you have lived in Blackwater all your life, I presume?" and he passes Oliver one of the glasses.

 

Oliver

"Yes.." He gratefully accepted the glass, taking a sip. "Blackwater is always open to newcomers." He added, savoring the contents of the glass.

 

Holden

Holden takes a drink and examines his glass as he swallows. It's very smooth. It reminds him of his father's special collection he'd stolen sips from when he was younger and he smiles.

"I've noticed. Much nicer than Saint Denis, that's for sure."

He nods and leans back in his seat again, resting the glass on his ankle as he crosses over his leg again.

 

Oliver

"I got this from a man I met in Saint Denis, now that you mention it." He nodded to the glass in Holden’s hand. He relaxed himself, nursing his glass.

 

Holden

"Oh, you've been there?"

 

Oliver

"Indeed I have." He nodded, finishing the glass.

 

Holden

"I'm sorry for you," he says with a chuckle. "There certainly are better places. Here, for one, doesn't seem so bad."

 

Oliver

"Well, the city is absolutely atrocious! I can't believe people actually live there! [insert ranting here]." Oliver continued ranting. Once he gets worked up, it's difficult to stop him.

 

Holden

Holden gives a hearty laugh, tipping his glass to Oliver before finishing it. "I'm with you there, my friend."

 

Oliver

"At least someone agrees with me - refill?" He looked at the bottle on the tray. There was a little over half left. Enough for a few more glasses.

 

Holden

"I've got it," he says and grabs the bottle, proceeding to reach for Oliver's glass to fill it for him. "Have you travelled a lot then?"

 

Oliver

He silently thanked Holden, replying to him. "Not really. I prefer the confines of this place. It gets rather lonely, though, at times."

 

Holden

"Do you not seek companionship?" he asks, settling back into his seat.

 

Oliver

"Believe me, I do. It's just...difficult." He replied, gazing out of the window.

 

Holden

Holden observes Oliver - he feels sorry for him, knowing full well that life can be lonely sometimes - then follows his gaze out of the window. The sunlight is gloriously shimmering across the surface of the water, broken only by the occassional passing boat, and it looks magical. He hasn't seen the lake from his angle in a few years, and it fills his heart with a warm feeling, the tips of his ears turning pink.

"Have you been on a boat journey before?"

 

Oliver

"Well, no. Except when I came over here from England, but I barely remember that." Oliver studied the boats crossing the lake, seeing Saint Denis in the distance. "I have always took trains or my horse--I'd probably kill him if I chose to ride him these days."

 

Holden

He chuckles. "What makes you say that? Is he old nowadays?

And you're from England?"

 

Oliver

"Well, yes, I am." He chuckled. "And age isn't the problem--in case you haven't noticed, I'm a little large." Large was an understatement.

 

Holden

"A horse is a machine, and I'm sure he's strong enough to carry you. And I wouldn't consider you large - perhaps just healthily filled out." Holden offers a smile and takes a drink.

 

Oliver

"You're right." He smiled at Holden, taking a long sip out of his glass. "And, what were we talking about earlier? Boats?"

 

Holden

He nods and leans back in his seat. "I used to travel by boat a lot, back when I lived in Saint Denis. They're certainly very interesting."

 

Oliver

"Certainly." He sighed, and looked down at his watch. The hours had gone by fast! He turned to Holden. "It's getting late. Perhaps you'd like to stay for dinner?"

 

Holden

"I'd hate to impose any longer than necessary on your company, unless you would prefer me to stay?"

 

Oliver

"I'd prefer it if you chose to stay, but it's alright if you don't.." He yawned, getting up to stretch. His limbs were stiff from laying down for so long. It was a common burden for him, annoying him immensely.

 

Holden

Holden gets to his feet as well and sets down his glass. "I'd like to join you," he says with a smile.

 

Oliver

"Alright then. I need to freshen up a but you're free to look around the house." He said, smiling and walking out the door, down the hall, and into his personal bathroom.

 

Holden

Feeling a little more at ease than when he arrived earlier, Holden feels welcome to explore a little and he makes his way back down the grand staircase and into the entrance hall, once again entranced by the sheer imenseness of it. (Not going to assume much of your house here since I don't know much about it), but Holden eventually ends up on the veranda, leaning on the railing and looking out across the lake, a cigarette on his lower lip.

 

Oliver

Oliver stepped across the threshold into his elegant bathroom, where he gave his moustache and face a wash, and trimmed his moustache, making sure it was perfect. He then sunk into his bathtub, where he gave himself a quick wash shampooing and conditioning his hair. Once he was finished, he slipped on a pink--yes, pink nightgown which he mainly wore around his house.

 

Holden

Holden's coat hangs across the railing by his side, his sleeves rolled up.

 

Oliver

Oliver walked out, feeling much better than before, and sent a servant to escort Holden to his private dining room.

 

Holden

A servant gets his attention and Holden turns to face him as he says that he will take him to the dining room, and he grabs his coat. They head inside and enter a room, the servant leaving Holden alone and closing the door behind him.

 

Oliver

The door opened again and Oliver reappeared, crossing the threshold into the room. He sat down at the table located in the center of the room, and waited for Holden to do the same.

 

Holden

Holden offers Oliver a smile as he enters and makes his way over to the other chair and sits down. "This is a lovely house you have."

 

Oliver

"It's alright. A bit too big for me, but it's still nice." The servant returned, waiting for their orders. "You can order anything that comes to mind."

 

Holden

A little overwhelmed by the offer, he tugs at his collar. "I uh... I'm not sure. What would you recommend?"

 

Oliver

Another servant entered, carrying menus. Oliver took them from the servant, and handed one to Holden. "Well, one of my personal favorites is a medium-rare steak alongside mashed potatoes, but you do you."

 

Holden

"That does sound good, though I'm more of a rare steak man," Holden says, passing the menu back again.

 

Oliver

"Alright." He passed his menu to the servant, who immediately left the room.

 

Holden

He watches the servant leave then reaches for his glass and takes a sip. "You have a lot of servants."

 

Oliver

"Just a few.." He took a sip of his wine, setting it back down on the table.

 

Holden

The atmosphere is... odd, and Holden keeps his hand on his glass, not too sure what to do with it otherwise. He tries to find some distraction by gazing around the room, taking in the ornaments and decór which, like the rest of the house, is astonishing. His index finger taps lightly on the glass as he looks around.

 

Oliver

"You seem a bit...distracted. Something on your mind?"

 

Holden

"Hm? Oh, no no. I'm just taking in the room. You're very cultured, and I admire that."

 

Oliver

"Thank you." He looked out the window, looking down on the brightly-lit city. Blackwater was such a beautiful city, at night.

 

Holden

"How long have you been mayor of Blackwater?" he asks.

 

Oliver

"Around three years, but I've lived in this house longer than that. Once I retire, I'll be moving to Lemoyne." Retirement was a long way away, so he didn't dwell on it much.

 

Holden

"Oh really?" Holden seems intrigued. "What was your job before you became a mayor? And what made you decide on Lemoyne?"

 

Oliver

"I worked in the army." He shuddered, remembering those days. "And Lemoyne is, in my opinion, a tad bit nicer."

 

Holden

"You were in the army? Now that I didn't expect. I took you for a business man." He chuckles.

 

Oliver

"Me? A business man? I can see why you could take me for one." He chuckled as well.

 

Holden

"You certainly are articulate and have a mind appreciative of the arts," he gestures around the room at the decór.

 

Oliver

"That is very true. I have great respect for the arts--speaking of the arts, I realized I haven't been to the opera in years…"

 

Holden

"Oh, the opera," he says, suddenly wistful. "Back when I lived in Saint Denis I would attend an opera every month or so. Certainly some of my best memories."

 

Oliver

"Yes, I had some good memories at the opera. I rarely leave the house these days…"

 

Holden

"Why is that?"

 

Oliver

He made up a lie, not wanting to talk about it. "A lot of work, recently."

 

Holden

"Oh." He isn't entirely convinced, but feels it's not really his place to pry. "I'm sorry for that. Hopefully your workload eases soon and you'll have the time to go again. Saint Denis has a lovely theatre I can really recommend."

 

Oliver

"I'm fine sticking here, in Blackwater." He knew his lie wasn't all that convincing, and he added: "Well, I could go…"

 

Holden

Holden studies Oliver with a curious look. "It's definitely something to do. Even if it waits until when you move to Lemoyne."

 

Oliver

Oliver glanced at Holden. "True..." The servant from earlier returned carrying steaming plates, topped with whatever foods they had ordered. He set them down in front of both Oliver and Holden.

 

Holden

The smell is overwhelming and Holden feels lightheaded as his plate is placed before him. His steak looks extroadinarily succulent and the vegetables are fresh and steaming. He hasn't had food like this in a long time, and it takes a lot for him to keep his wits about him and think of his manners. He smiles at Oliver.

"This looks delicious. Your staff have outdone themselves."

 

Oliver

Oliver looked down at his own plate, also topped with a steak. It was cooked right to perfection, with his corn slathered with butter, and mashed potatoes were heaped up on one quarter of the plate. "Yes...they really have this time."

 

Holden

"This time?" he asks, setting to sawing through his steak, which oozes juice just the way he likes it.

 

Oliver

"Well, they always outdo themselves, but this time it's even better than usual." He grabbed his knife, cutting a large chunk out of his enormous steak.

 

HoldenHolden chuckles, putting a big piece into his mouth to chew. It tastes as good at it looks, if not better, and it positively melts in his mouth. "Mmm~."

 

OliverOliver took the chunk and began to chew it. He realized his staff had overdone it this time. It was delicious. He had never had such good food. He savored it for a while,before swallowing it with ease. "That was amazing…"

 

Holden

He smiles at Oliver then looks back to his food. "I'm glad you've eased up again. Good food does that to you."

 

Oliver

"It does." He wiped the sides of his mouth with a napkin, and took another bite of the steak.

 

Holden

They eat in a peaceful silence, the only sound filling the room being the clinking of cutlery and china. The evening draws on, and pretty soon, Holden has finished his meal.

 

Oliver

Oliver finished eating. It took longer for him, as he had bigger portions of food. He then relaxed himself, sitting comfortably in his chair. "So…"

 

Holden

He reclines in his chair, a little back from the table so he can cross his ankle of his knee, glass in hand. "Thank you for that, Oliver. Definitely a meal I will remember."

 

Oliver

"Anytime, Holden." He picked up his glass of wine, and took a hearty sip. "Good food, good wine, and good company."

 

Holden

Holden smiles at Oliver and raises his glass to him then takes a drink. "I'd best be getting back soon though. I'd hate to overstay my welcome and I have some things to get done."

 

Oliver

"Oh..right." He looked a little disappointed. "Would you like me to escort you to the door..?"

 

Holden

He finishes his drink and puts down his glass. "If you would be so kind, though I don't expect you to," he says, getting to his feet.

 

Oliver

"Follow me." He lead Holden out of the room, down the hall, and down the grand staircase back into the entrance hall.

 

Holden

They make their way to the entrance hall, shoes click-clacking on the tiled flooring as they cross the room to the doors. "Thank you again for the invitation, Oliver. I've had a lovely evening."

 

Oliver

"I have also enjoyed our time together. Please, come back anytime." He briefly smiled, hiding a frown.

 

Holden

"I would be grateful to," he says, smiling with a flash of his teeth. A servant opens the doors for him and Holden exits the building, offering a small wave back as he goes.

 

Oliver

He returned the wave, and disappeared back into the house.

 


	8. Day 22-24

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A reminder that this is all spontaneously written! Please excuse any mistakes or bad pacing.
> 
> Again, this roleplay takes place in 1899. For those who have read some of my current story Hellfire, you would know that that takes place in 1895, four years prior to this. Hellfire is focued on Holden's outlaw lifestyle after losing Hanschen. You may notice some things being mentioned in this RP that have not come up before now - yes, these can be considered spoilers! Since 1895, a lot has happened. But most importantly, that lifestyle is behind Holden and he is not too keen to get it started up again any time soon. But who knows what'll happen? For now he is a skilled hunter, much like before the events of Hellfire when he used to hunt with Hanschen, trying to live a semi-honest lifestyle. But shit happens. Holden has matured over the years, and is much more considerate than in Hellfire or before. He takes the time to consider what the best options are.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A few chapters summarizing Holden and Billy's move from Blackwater to Cholla Sping, Armadillo.
> 
> I have recently added this work which describes the features of the current Dreer Boy camp with pictures: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19153993
> 
> Part two of "Holden taking in poor, lost boys and making them his own". lol

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Day 22

Holden

A soft ray of warm sunlight streams through the gap in the curtains, bathing a line of gold onto the floor and catching Holden's eye as he leans forwards to pick up a shirt. He folds the shirt, his mind wandering. It's been an eventful time in Blackwater and he feels like a changed man in a way, grateful to have met some lovely people. Even now he catches his own eye in the mirror and sees a glow to his cheeks and the crimson blush of his overcoat, his worn leather jacket safely folded in his bags.

He feels... confident, and he can't really explain way. It may be the aroma of the new land, or the promise of companionship from Billy, or the respect the mayor offered him. Either way, Holden packs his bags with a smile on his face, hoping Billy is doing just the same next door.

 

 

Day 23

Holden

The early morning blesses the plains with beautiful golden sunshine, significantly raising the hopes and spirits of two travelers on their way west. Both sit astride their own horse, Holden having spent the rest of the money Oliver gave him on a handsome steed for Billy, and chatter mindlessly as the sun continues to rise.

Their departure from Blackwater was simple enough and with no issues - though they both found it hard to say goodbye to the quaint city as they both would have preferred to stay a little longer, but their plans said otherwise. And so, they find themselves on the trail, bags full, and the whole day ahead of them to get to Armadillo, which they should reach by sunset at their current pace.

 

 

Day 24

Holden

After an eventful month of reliving old memories and finding himself more often than necessary with his nose in a bottle, it feels good for Holden to breathe in the dry, desert air. The ground is tough and arid under their boots and the horizon bears nothing but the occasional low ridge dotted with cacti, a low cloud of sand and dust swirling across their vision.

Their camp is more advanced than it ever has been, with Billy and Holden each having their own close-able tent, a thick table with chairs by the campfire, and a covered wagon decked out with their crates, hangings and draped with dried foods.

The money Oliver provided Holden has been more than beneficial and their herd now consists of Quickdraw, Holden's horse, the horse he purchased for Billy, and another strong Dutch Warmblood to pull the wagon with 'Draw. They're hitched a short ways' away in the shade of a Joshua tree, snuffling the ground.

Holden meanwhile reclines back in a chair, feet on the table and cards in his hand, cigarette balancing on his lower lip. He's playing alone, eyebrows knitted together as he thinks. Mother time is certainly taking her toll on Holden who would, if he were to look in a mirror, notice the line on his forehead being more prominent.

 

 

Day 25

Holden

It's a seemingly peaceful day with the only sounds being the gentle breeze scraping along the sand and the occasional call of a bird overhead. Holden and Billy have spent the morning chatting and laughing across the table, sharing stories from their pasts, and now Billy has retreated into his tent, leaving Holden alone.

The dry desert air is doing wonders and he feels young again, tapping his foot as he hums to himself, whittling away at a piece of wood. Maybe it's the fact that he has Billy by his side, but all he knows is that he is happy again, and a smile aimed back at Billy's tent confirms this.

He's dressed to impress once more, donning one of his snazzy bowties over a nice French shirt, legs clad in pinstripe riding pants and feet secure in his shiny lace-up boots. Even his worn leather hat has been set aside and replaced by his smooth, velvet black one.

Holden has yet to venture into Tumbleweed this time around, and has such made the plan this morning to make his way there within the hour. Quickdraw is restless and has been raring to go, not quite satisfied despite the long trek yesterday, and eagerly snuffed Holden's hand this morning as he was fed, pawing at the ground.

A gallop would do them both some good.

For now, Holden resumes humming, whittling away, appreciating the serenity and peacefulness the desert brings.

.・。.・゜✯

And so, as the hour passes, Holden finds himself saddling a pacing Quickdraw who quivers under his touch. He steadies him with a hand and swings himself into the saddle, gripping onto it as 'Draw surges forwards.

He doesn't feel the need to hold him back and instead smiles, allowing the reins to slip through his fingers to give his horse the head he needs, and feels him lift up underneath him, lengthening his stride on their way to Tumbleweed.

.・。.・゜✯

Amongst the bustle of the small town trots Holden, his horse huffing underneath him. The ride was exhilarating and they're both decently out of breath, though Holden had given Quickdraw the last stretch to trot and cool off.

They approach the outside of the saloon and Holden hitches him up and loosens the girth, allowing him to take a nice long drink. He turns and assesses his surroundings. Tumbleweed isn't necessarily a big town, but it certainly is full of life, people going about their business at every corner. And they look... legitimate enough. They're armed to the teeth, some even gripping their rifles in both hands, but they have welcoming faces.

He assumes they work for the lawforce, going by their demeanor.

Holden takes a deep breath and sighs, then heads into the saloon to get to know the locals.

He slowly walks up to the counter, taking in the jaunty tune being played on the piano, the lively poker game going on by the windows, the idle drinkers and the ladies of the night reclining on the sofas near the back. He's a little surprised at how full of life the town is, especially in comparison to Armadillo - though, ironically, that town is dying.

He leans on the shiny wood and gestures the bartender and requests a glass of water, which he takes to sipping on, leaning back against the counter as he people-watches.

 

Herschel

Herschel walked back into the saloon--nobody seemed to notice him this time, and meandered his way to the saloon counter. With a wave of his hand, he gestured for the bartender to come to him. He fumbled in his right pocket, withdrawing a few weather-beaten coins. He slapped them on the counter, and with a glare the bartender went to fetch his whiskey.

 

Holden

From where he stands he can clearly see Herschel enter, and immediately his demeaner changes from serious to pitiful. The boy couldn't be much older than 13 or 14 and certainly doesn't seem up to scrap with those weatherbeaten, old coins. He sips on his water, watching him from the side of his view.

 

Herschel

When the kid received the whiskey, he gulped it down. The whiskey quenched his thirst, but not his hunger. He checked his pockets, but found he had no more coins. Welp, another night of me going hungry…

 

Holden

Holden shuffles on his feet, studying the boy as he presses his lips to the rim of the glass. He looks thin, and Holden is feeling generous.

He turns around to lean on the counter and addresses him, "Hungry?"

 

Herschel

Herschel jumped at the sound of the mans' voice, and withdrew his Bowie knife. He studied the man for a moment. He seemed trustworthy enough, but not enough to make Herschel trust him. "B-back away…"

 

Holden

"Kid, I'm not gonna hurt you," he says, tipping his glass at Herschel in a form of greeting. "Can I get you something to eat?"

 

Herschel

He lowered his knife, but still kept it ready. At the sound of food, he immediately nodded. "I could use something to eat.."

 

Holden

He gestures a hand at the menu on the counter. "Take your pick, it's on me."

 

Herschel

His eyes hovered over the menu, searching for a meal. He finally decided on the steak. "I'll just take...steak."

 

Holden

Holden chuckles and waves the bartender over. "A steak for my friend here, the biggest you have."

The bartender nods and passes it on to the kitchen and Holden turns back to Herschel, offering him a smile. "What are you doing begging in the end of nowhere?"

 

Herschel

He still retained his hostile demeanor. "Maybe because I can't afford to go anywhere else?"

 

Holden

"Well that much is obvious," he says, not fazed by Herschel's hostility. "But I haven't earned a fair dime myself not once in my life and I still get around."

 

Herschel

"Yeah, well, it's harder for some people to get around." He was now scanning the room, as he had nothing better to do.

 

Holden

"You're hard work, kid," Holden says as he straightens himself, turning around to match Herschel's stance. "What's your name?"

 

Herschel

"What's it to you?" He was confused on why the man was being so friendly. First he bought him food, and now he's asking his name.

 

Holden

"It couldn't hurt to know your name if I'm gonna be talking to you. Allow me to get the ball rolling; my name is Holden. Now it's your turn."

 

Herschel

Herschel." He looked back at the door to the kitchen, checking if the bartender would reemerge with his food.

 

Holden

"Pleasure to meet you, Herschel," he says with a smile before taking a sip of his water. "You been in Tumbleweed long?"

 

Herschel

"Long? I've been here for 5 years." He didn't return the smile, still unsure about whether or not he should trust this man.

 

Holden

"Certainly longer than me. I used to camp up near Armadillo but I never got around to coming this far east. I'm not sure why - it's a nice town, if not well armed." He chuckles.

 

Herschel

"This place is a total shithole--and, we're well armed because of those damn Del Lobos." He didn't chuckle, still keeping his cold gaze.

 

Holden

"They're still around? Shit, was hoping they killed themselves off." As he says this the bartender brings Herschel his steak.

 

Herschel

He took a bite of steak, and, not knowing any proper manners, didn't say thank you. "Yeah. They're dying out, though. Most went off to Mexico or some other shithole."

 

Holden

"Use your cutlery kid," he says as he curls his lip, waving a hand as though mocking to smack Herschel. "I can only think why."

 

Herschel

"Oh--right.." He took his knife and cut a piece of the steak, instead of just ripping it off like he had done previously.

 

Holden

"Thattaboy." Holden smiles and takes a drink of his water.

 

Herschel

He ate in silence, quickly finishing the steak. He was full. It had been weeks--no, months since he had been truly fed.

 

Holden

"Good?" he asks, looking out across the saloon as he talks to Herschel, his glass in hand.

 

Herschel

"Yeah." He wiped the rim of his mouth with a napkin. "Been ages since I've had a decent meal."

 

Holden

"Well there's plenty more where that came from, though maybe not of that caliber." He chuckles. "Sometimes it's better to catch and cook it yourself. Cheaper too."

 

Herschel

"Yeah..so where are you staying in town?" He asked, now wanting to know a bit more about Holden.

 

Holden

"Ah. I'm not staying in town."

 

Herschel

"Oh. Okay, then." He glanced out of the saloon's window. It was now pitch black, and he yawned. "Getting a bit late."

 

Holden

"You got somewhere to head back to?" he asks.

 

Herschel

"Not really, I sort of live anywhere with a roof." He replied, yawning more heavily now.

 

Holden

Holden studies Herschel and takes a moment to think, then says, "Can I offer you a place to stay?"

 

Herschel

"Anything's better than my current place.." He sighed, deprived of all energy.

 

Holden

He seems to perk up and chuckles, slapping Herschel on the back. "Good, my boy! Come on, I'll show you the way."

 

Herschel

"Alright.." He said cautiously, still unsure about this man, but he decided Holden would be alright.

 

Holden

Holden smiles and sets down his glass then doffs his hat to the bartender. He gestures for Herschel to accompany him as he makes his way to the doors of the saloon then heads outside to the #tumbleweed-main-road.

"Do you have anything you need to pick up?" he asks as they walk.

 

Herschel

"Nah, I'm dirt poor. Ain't got anythin' worth bringin'." He said, struggling to match the pace of Holden.

 

Holden

"That's a shame." Holden sucks his teeth. "Never mind. I'm sure you'll be making new memories and collecting new belongings soon enough."

He offers Herschel a smile, eyes shining with optimism as they walk over to his horse hitched behind the saloon.

"I would assume you don't have a horse either?" he aaks as he climbs into the saddle.

 

Herschel

He smiled for the first time in a long while. "I suppose I will." He watched Holden climb into his saddle. "Nope, I don't have a horse."

 

Holden

Holden holds his gloved hand down to the boy, offering him so much more than just a hand onto his horse, but a helping hand into a new life. A guiding hand to lead him when things get tough. A friendly hand to slap his back as they laugh.

And this is the kind of thing Holden is good at, making himself someone's equal and showing that they're both on the same ground, living through the same life. He offers Herschel his hand to show him that he's there for him.

"Climb up, boy."

 

Herschel

Herschel reached forward, and clasped Holdens' hand. With some minor difficulty, he hauled himself up onto the back of the horse. "Thanks."

 

Holden

"No problem. Hold on tight, it's a decently long ride," he says and clucks his horse forwards into a trot. They pass through the clearing and onto the trail leading out of town.

 

Herschel

"Alright." He did as instructed, placing his hands tightly onto Holden. "So, where are you camped?"

 

Holden

"In Cholla Springs, north-west of Armadillo. It's a nice place. We're sheltered by a cliff and we're out of sight of the road."

 

Herschel

"Never been out there, I've always gone only a little ways outside of town. Sounds like you've got a decent place, though."

 

Holden

"You've got a lot to see of this world then, my boy!" Holden flashes a toothy grin over his shoulder. "Sights to see, people to get to know. Maybe one day I'll show you Saint Denis."

 

Herschel

"That's like...the city, right?" He asked, unsure about what this "Saint Denis" was. He'd heard about it, of course, but never seen it.

 

Holden

"Oh yes. One of the biggest on the east coast, and certainly one hell of a sight."

 

Herschel

"Oh...I've heard of it. Few people may have mentioned it around town."

 

Holden

"You don't sound too enthusiastic," he says, a chuckle vibrating down his back and into Herschel's hands. "Not to worry. There are other places too. But it's best we keep our distance from Armadillo. There's an illnesses plaguing the town."

Holden sucks his teeth and shakes his head. "It's a shame, but it'll pass. It's a lovely town."

 

Herschel

"Every town to me is bad. No matter how "lovely" it looks. They're all the same." He spat on the ground. "Fucking hate towns."

 

Holden

He chuckles again. "You say that now. But wait until you get the eyes for the people in the towns. Certainly is a fair bit of money to be made there, if you're willing to work for it - and not in the typical way."

 

Herschel

"May have done a bit of pickpocketing in my time.." He chuckled mischievously. "I get what you're talking about.."

 

Holden

"Thattaboy. But if you're gonna be picking pockets whilst staying at my camp, be sure to keep your name off the posters, am I clear?"

 

Herschel

"Well, I'll try. Can't say I'll promise anything.." He chuckled again. "We close to your camp yet?"

 

Holden

"Yes, it's just up ahead," he points to a cluster of trees near a cliff in the distance as they approach #cholla-springs.

They approach the trees, then round the corner, revealing a small camp consisting of a wagon with supplies, two tents and a couple of horses grazing nearby.

 

Herschel

"Nice little set up you've got here." He glanced around the camp, looking at the horses, tents, and the wagon. "You must be like..rich or something."

 

Holden

Holden slides from the saddle and flips Quickdraw's reins over his head to tether him to the Joshua tree the other two are tied to. He turns and looks over the camp, a small smile on his lips.

"Oh, certainly not rich. But we've had our blessings, and we're on our way up."

 

Herschel

He heavily yawned. It had now become a struggle to keep his eyes open. "Do you have anywhere to lay down..?"

 

Holden

"Oh yeah," he says, walking over to the tents. He gestures to the one on the left. "That one's occupied, and this one," the other, "is mine. But you can use my bedroll until we get you your own. I've gotta head to Armadillo now anyway."

 

Herschel

"So, is there a pond anywhere? I need to get some of this filth off.." He indicated the grime that he was covered in.

 

Holden

Holden shakes his head. "There's a barrel of water by the wagon you can use to wash in if you use the bucket next to it. We're not exactly near to any water source here in the desert. I have to do water runs."

 

Herschel

"Ah, alright." He walked over to the barrel, and splashed some of it onto his face. He then wiped his face clean, and did the same with his hair.

 

Holden

He takes a seat near the campfire and puts his feet on the table, lighting himself a cigarette.


	9. Day 35

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A reminder that this is all spontaneously written! Please excuse any mistakes or bad pacing.
> 
> Again, this roleplay takes place in 1899. For those who have read some of my current story Hellfire, you would know that that takes place in 1895, four years prior to this. Hellfire is focued on Holden's outlaw lifestyle after losing Hanschen. You may notice some things being mentioned in this RP that have not come up before now - yes, these can be considered spoilers! Since 1895, a lot has happened. But most importantly, that lifestyle is behind Holden and he is not too keen to get it started up again any time soon. But who knows what'll happen? For now he is a skilled hunter, much like before the events of Hellfire when he used to hunt with Hanschen, trying to live a semi-honest lifestyle. But shit happens. Holden has matured over the years, and is much more considerate than in Hellfire or before. He takes the time to consider what the best options are.
> 
> ( Ahem... not any more it would seem )

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Day 35

Holden

It's one hell of a hot day and the dusty road is an unbearable, blinding white, forcing Holden to shield his eyes beneath his hat by tilting his head forwards, a slight frown on his face, his nose bunched. He's leaning with his back against the wall of the general store with a forgotten cigarette hanging limply from his slightly parted lips, one boot propped flat against the panelling.

The past week or so have been uneventful at most. Other that the occasional hunt and visit into town not a lot has been happening. Billy is behaving himself for once and Holden is content.

Surprisingly that makes him restless.

After losing all the finery in the world so many a time over he can't help but look up to match the glance of a well-dressed woman exiting the store. He doffs his hat because it's the polite thing to do but finds his gaze resting at the sparkle of precious gems accenting so sensually the crest of her breasts.

It's easy game there's no denying it. All it would take is a few fine words on his part, a lower of walls on hers and the necklace would be his; with or without the burden of a body on his hands. A necklace that could easily be fenced off for a decent price, one that would go far into improving his and Billy's lives.

But does he really need it? The itch in his fingers subsides as a heavy feeling sinks in the pit of his stomach. Would it all be worth it in the end?

And yet...

Is it the necklace that calls to him? Does he really desire the money, or does he desire the thrill of something else? It's been a long time since and the turning of his new leaf came at a great expense that is the loss of another man's life. But Holden has killed many times. One more death shouldn't sully his conscience any more than the last fifty.

But she's gone. In the time it has taken him to outweigh his conscience she has climbed into her wagon and it disappears down the road and out of town. And for all it's worth, he's not prepared to ride out after her. There are plenty of nice folk around here more worthy of a bullet or two.

He looks down at his chest, watching as it rises and falls heavily as adrenaline courses through his veins. It's been a long time and it might get sloppy. Should he?

It's like he can't help himself. Holden balls his hands and clenches his teeth, facing the ground once more. He has passed that lifestyle, improved himself. He's a good man. A good man with good intentions.

_{Fucking Ollie.}_

Holden tips his hat to shield his face as he stands upright, pausing to straighten his vest but then he pauses. People have seen him today. There aren't much folk in Armadillo, but they have seen him, and have seen him many weeks before now. He can't risk throwing it all away for this... this...

This _fucking_ anger.

His lips tighten and he abruptly stalks away from the main road. Anything to get out of here, cool the anger, fucking something that'll make him not regret this later on. Something that'll let him continue living in this godforsaken shithole that...

Is that really what he wants? He used to despise the world for what it's becoming, and in all honesty that thought hasn't died. It's only been buried beneath a firm exterior of being a good man. America is a shithole, there's no point in hiding it. It's a fucked up place full of fucked up people, and Holden used to want to change that. Why the hell did that change? For what? An innocent life lost at the hands of fools who didn't know what they were doing?

As he walks away Holden slips off his vest, folding it neatly before sliding it into his satchel. He undoes his ponytail and ruffles up his shirt a bit. Any way to throw off unsuspecting glances, he supposes.

  .・。.・゜✯

Now a little away from town Holden finally lets himself go a bit. His teeth are fully clenched and bared, adrenaline burning through his blood in a fire that could probably be seen if his eyes if anyone is to get close enough. Some bastard will have to pay. Some fool has a cascade of sins - everyone does. It just all depends on who you ask.

His eyes rest on a lone rider a little up the trail. His horse is sluggish, presumably having ridden for days, and the rider's gaze is downcast. The man himself, looking to be in his late fourties, maybe early fifties, wears the clothing of an urchin and has a nasty look on his face that Holden can see even from this distance.

But it doesn't take long for him to be close enough for Holden to make out a scar or two and the glimmer of a gun on his belt. He may be able to play the exhaustion to his advantage.

There's a moment where time seems to slow down. He can only hear his heavy, shaky breaths and the dull hoofbeats of the horse as he reaches for the revolver at his side. The moment his fingers connect with the grip everything moves like a strike of lightning. All he knows is that his gun is pointed right at the man's head who has reined in his horse, staring at Holden in terror.

"Down," is all Holden can muster, his voice quivering and his vision blurred.

It's as if he's possessed by some greater being, feeling half asleep and yet wide awake at the same time, if that is possible. No more 'up' could he feel if he were standing at the top of mount Shaun looking down at the world. And yet no so far away from reality that he feels he is watching himself go through the motions, merely a puppet for his master's play. And his master wants him to spill blood.

The man hesitates first, examining the situation with his fear-stricken eyes as the buttons on his vest, but it doesn't take much for him to see he is at a loss and to slide from his horse, his gun useless on his belt. He drops to his knees and folds his hands behind his head, staring up at Holden.

That look...

A surge of power and exhilaration bursts through Holden as though he was just told he is king of the world and so much more. The world is his. This man's life is his. His and his alone. There is no man nor god alive that could replace Holden at this time.

"Wh-... What do you want from me?"

Their eyes remain focused on one-another, Holden staring so deeply into the man's eyes that he is sure he might lose himself in the flecks of gold that adorn the hazel irises he possesses. Can a man truly go insane? Or would it be to regain insanity? After everything that has been and everything that may come, Holden is sure of something.

 _Oliver_ , that beast of a man, took all he loved and will ever love. Took all he had and so much more. And all that Holden wants, all that Holden truly needs right now is just one thing.

"Revenge."

The echo of the gunshot rings out across the empty plains of the desert, scattering a flock of birds nearby.


	10. Day 36

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A reminder that this is all spontaneously written! Please excuse any mistakes or bad pacing.
> 
> Again, this roleplay takes place in 1899. For those who have read some of my current story Hellfire, you would know that that takes place in 1895, four years prior to this. Hellfire is focued on Holden's outlaw lifestyle after losing Hanschen. You may notice some things being mentioned in this RP that have not come up before now - yes, these can be considered spoilers! Since 1895, a lot has happened. But most importantly, that lifestyle is behind Holden and he is not too keen to get it started up again any time soon. But who knows what'll happen? For now he is a skilled hunter, much like before the events of Hellfire when he used to hunt with Hanschen, trying to live a semi-honest lifestyle. But shit happens. Holden has matured over the years, and is much more considerate than in Hellfire or before. He takes the time to consider what the best options are.
> 
> ( Ahem... not any more it would seem )

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Day 36

Holden

It's that time of morning where everything is serene and silent. The night critters have fallen silent and the birds have yet to wake up and begin their twittering, and so the camp is bathed in a blanket of simulated isolation. Holden is grateful for it.  
  
He reclines back on his hands a little ways around the cliff sheltering their camp, just out of view from anyone who may be awake, but still close enough to hear if anything would happen. His hat slouches over his brow, partly covering his eyes as he closes them. Not to sleep, but to daydream, to think.  
  
It's been... an odd couple of days to say the least. He hadn't expected to get away with that murder, and part of him had hoped to have been caught. He still keeps an ear open now, just in case the law finally comes barging into their camp and throw his face to the ground to cuff his wrists. All he can hope is Billy and Victoria go unharmed if they do.  
  
He doesn't want to die, but... it's right, in a way. He's deserved death so many times over. He should have died back then, the noose around his neck, instead of that young man; whoever he was.  
  
All he knows is that he's probably going to kill again. It's wrong, but he has nothing left to lose really. He shouldn't have gotten so angry at Billy when they first met, for wanting to shoot those innocent folk. Who gives a damn really? Everyone dies in the end. That's just how life is. It's just that some die earlier than others.  
Holden rhythmically taps his knee with a finger.  
  
What's their next move? Does he just forget this ever happened and continue on his path of righteousness? Or should he utilize it? If you know who to kill at the right time you last longer than a fool killing random nobodies, that's for sure.  
  
Maybe he shouldn't have killed that man. It was poorly done and poorly covered up. He's just lucky the law in this area are apparently incapable. But he can't let it get out of hand like that next. Yes, next time. Next time he'll pick a target properly, plan it out, have some idea of what his motive is and why, what they can do to cover it up, what their alibies are. Their...  
  
Does he want to drag the others into this? Victoria's fucking bloodthirsty, that's for sure. She doesn't seem to give two shits when it comes to killing people. And Billy has always had that look in his eye.  
  
Maybe it's better to have accomplices. But now is not the right time.


End file.
